


Without a Bang

by MemoriesoftheAlhambra



Category: Toaru Kagaku no Railgun | A Certain Scientific Railgun, Toaru Majutsu no Index | A Certain Magical Index, とある科学の一方通行 | Toaru Kagaku no Accelerator | A Certain Scientific Accelerator
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon - Anime, F/M, Head Injury, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Manga & Anime, Mental Health Issues, Permanent Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26614075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemoriesoftheAlhambra/pseuds/MemoriesoftheAlhambra
Summary: After Accelerator received his head injury, what did he go through on his road to recovery & how did he cope with a power downgrade? What would happen if he encountered Mikoto before WWIII? This fic will time jump through arc gaps, settling post-WWIII to explore his inner struggle with embracing family, integration with society, and navigating what love is. (Fight scenes included).
Comments: 13
Kudos: 43





	1. Circling like Vultures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice to meet you all! This story starts out with Accel dealing with something he never had to before: injuries and a power downgrade. From there, we're time skipping through the different arcs and finally to settle post-WWIII at my own alternate timeline. That's where I plan on adding a whole romance/friendship segment of the story.
> 
> Chapter Playlist:  
> My Demons - STARSET (credit to the lyrics used below)  
> Crossfire - Stephen

_Mayday mayday the ship is slowly sinking_

_They think I'm crazy, but they don't know the feeling_

_They're all around me_

_Circling like vultures_

_They wanna break me and wash away my colors_

To the sound of birds, a groggy teenager roused into a state of waking. He drifted through a form of consciousness, grasping that, _of course_ , he hadn't died. It was not so easy to kill the #1 level five ESPer in Academy City. Puh, what a ridiculous thought even. Wait, _died_? Confusion brushed over him like soft sheets that smelled of lavender, and as much as he tried, he could not gather enough devices to surmise why he might be thinking like that—why he felt...was it _relief_? A beat passed in ruptured thought and a crack of wings sounded outside at the bird's take-off. The shrill call of their song ended without conclusion.

So he opened his eyes. And the world was all too bright—it was blinding. Immediately, he felt something ranging on regret, but threw out the feeling as soon as it surfaced. Meaningless. Useless. Squinting his red eyes at the white blur surrounding him, slowly, it came into focus. He saw a ceiling with LEDs that were currently dimmed, for which he was glad. There wasn't much detail he could gather from his pereforial from where he lay so he tried shifting his head to see— A pang hit him that wasn't quite unlike the sensation when a certain hero's right fist connected with his face. Was it... _pain_? It scratched faintly up his neck in a jagged and preventative way, protesting his attempt at turning. Come to think of it, he couldn't feel much of anything before that. His entire body had been completely numb. Shock hit him and he felt his heart start to race in wild confusion. Like a trapped animal, he didn't hesitate to use everything he had to fling himself upright and search the room for answers.

White walls, white linoleum, white sheets, and so many machines replaced the chirping floating feeling he had at first observed. The wires were all connected to him. A whining was heard, and for once, it wasn't the brat; it was mechanical beeping, measuring, producing. He felt short of breath and the room looked like someone had taken out its drain, but he tightened his focus and grit his teeth, hearing commotion sounding outside the door. His hands that had hoisted him up to lean against the cold bed rail now gripped the sheets on either side of him, bunching the delicate fabric up as if it would lock him down to one spot, lest he be sucked into the blackhole that was eating the room. Damned if he'd lose to some fucking dizzy spell just as soon as he came to. Fuckers. You don't just press the off switch on a monster.

The door opened, but the commotion of it felt like a bomb went off. His lips parted for more air, but he couldn't seem to even out his breaths or understand why it felt like he was in the fray of artillery fire. It was just footsteps. He blinked and felt a freezing cold hand touch his forehead. Wait, _touch_? Who would just reach out and touch _him_? His confusion seemed to reach a precipice and the look of utter bewilderment glimmered in his eyes. The hand that was on his forehead withdrew and words were happening, but it sounded like someone was trying to talk to him under water. It was gibberish—the fuck was this bitch trying to speak to him in piglatin for… He tightened his jaw further, trying to think of words to communicate that would relay the fact that she wasn't making any goddamn sense, but only a muffled groan came out as he unknowingly listed to the side.

Everything was dimming and he stopped trying for a second, exhausted while his mind took a turn on the hamster wheel. As hard as he tried, he just could not come up with a conclusion to anything he observed. He could not understand what was happening—not really. He was only able to feel when something lightly tugged at his elbow. A pupil darted to the side, trying to gather in data that stopped somewhere at IV. Something was being injected, he observed, but before he could even try to go further with an inquiry into what it might even be, his heart suddenly slowed down and a more absolute fogginess hung over the room as it slowed its crazed vortex. His anxious breaths evened out and he barely noticed when someone else—two others showed up.

_["Thank you for saving me! Misaka exclaims with gratitude as Misaka hopes you can hear her."]_

As soon as he saw her, he didn't need to think to know. For the first time since panic had set in, he came to a singular realization that was so strong, it made every fiber of his being spark.

 _**He had saved her** _ _._

Everything else vanished, but her brimming hazel eyes that latched to his. A ghost of a smile fell to his lips as a quaking hand reached and dropped atop her tiny head. A heavy weight she now bore, but instead of flinching away, a warm hand graced over his, holding it there so it wouldn't slide off. She was saying something more, but he could not understand, and his lips fell slack, forming a frown. He shifted his gaze sideways and noted a short, stubby man that looked like a fat, aged bullfrog with a concerned look on his face. He also began to make sounds that were supposed to be in language, of which he just could not grasp. A wave a panic spread through him again, but felt subdued and instantly crushed, his red eyes became dazed and hooded, and his hand was slipping from Last Order's head, but he had forgotten it was even there. She was scrambling to hold it there, reaching up with the other hand. The frog's voice reverberated in his head and it felt like something was crushing his skull. He drew in a shaking breath, somehow sensing it was likely important to hear this, but it just made no—

His body dropped like dead weight and he nearly face planted into the side rail of the bed, but was caught by hands. He felt them situating him back down, but his vaguely cracked eyes barely processed the light he was trying to read—trying so hard. Little did he know as he lost consciousness, the frog-faced man was telling him not to try and think so hard.

* * *

"He woke up?" Yoshikawa inquired, placing the Scientist Daily magazine she was reading tenderly down onto her lap. Her usually flat eyes had a hopeful light in them and she leaned forward in anticipation that was slightly unbecoming of a scientist that was not kind at all. But perhaps, they were both changing. Her _and_ Accelerator.

"Yes, but…" The frog-faced doctor, who had tried to introduce himself as Heaven Canceller to Accelerator's broken mind, sighed as he approached his other patient.

"But…" She tried to continue for him, but second guessed herself, almost wishing not to know. Albeit they had all survived, surely there was a cost that needed to be paid. Accelerator had even unconsciously been able to set calculations up to keep her alive while they both bled out—while he lost his computational abilities and verbal function, he still... He hung onto her until she reached the operating table. She was alive because of his unfathomable abilities. Last Order was also alive because he had exceeded limits that never existed in the first place. The #1 level five ESPer of Academy City was truly terrifying, which is why it made sense that he was bridled into a human weapon void of emotional connection, empathy, and lack thereof. Well, until he had refused to kill Last Order. Yoshikawa had even told him to…

"It seems my prediction was correct. It did not look as though he was even able to recognize where he was without knowing so in advanced. He recognized Last Order though." He frowned and shuffled his tiny feet, looking closely at her. "The girl is beside herself."

Yoshikawa was looking at him measuredly, but with an ounce of anger. She had not known Heaven Canceller to end a sentence without a solution. He was toying with her—trying to draw something out of her. Worry? Is that what he wanted, well!

"Ara, perhaps you should send her in here. Watching a cripple all day long must take its toll on the poor child." Cold. Hard. Calculating. As was the scientist that was a part of the Level 6 Shift Project. She raised her chrome eyes, a bright fire glinting in the corners as she hinted that the white-haired teenager was a lost cause. And then, she smiled, laughing softly and wincing when it pulled at her chest. "I've never known you to look so concerned. What of the device you mentioned—connecting to the MISAKA network?"

"I wasn't sure if you recalled. It's in process now, but it's going to take a lot of tests and another surgery. He's certainly giving me a workout."

"Then why are you in here talking with me?"

"Can't an old man check on an old friend?"

She raised an eyebrow and oho-ed, "I should be the least of your concerns."

And there it was: the worry he was looking for and counting on. It was right there faintly shining through her eyes when she looked up at him. She looked like she was about to plead again for him to go, but instead, she shut her eyes and leaned back as if she knew what she had just shown to him. She couldn't have possibly have known though, for he had determined more than just the surface level worry. He saw that Yoshikawa not only wanted to save his life, but she wanted to make a bet on him. She believed in his redemption. And it was his job as a doctor to make that possible. That was all he needed to know. If he were to actually _save_ the boy, he had to make sure of quite a few things first.

"You have nothing to worry about."

* * *

A soft breeze was blowing through. Last Order was staring at the wind like she could see it, but the wind had no color or qualities the human eye could decipher. She saw instead, calculations of its quality, measurable in all mathematical ways currently known. She was a self-aware near-machine, careless to that fact—more concerned to the fact that the wind was going to make him cold: her savior.

"Accelerator, whispers Misaka as Misaka stands up to close the window." What if he was hot though? She stared at the window as if asking the inanimate object to figure it out for her. "Are you cold? Misaka asks while Misaka sighes and compares you to an inanimate object."

His hand twitched and his lashes fluttered. The little girl immediately clammed up and flew to his bedside, leaning over him and covering her mouth with her hand. She knew she had to be quiet and behave, (as she was told this many times by hospital staff), and she wanted to be on her best behavior for him. She also knew of a way she'd be able to communicate with him, as told to her by the Gekota doctor. He had tasked her with something.

Her eyes were doe-ed when he slowly woke, gathered himself, and sat up before he was able to notice her. He, again, looked so confused and conflicted that her worry brought tears to her eyes. She climbed onto the bed with him, careful not to jar him in any way. Lightly, she pulled his head to her chest, wrapping her arms around him and intertwining her fingertips with the back of his knotted, white mess of hair. She saw his eyes close as if he took comfort in the motion, but she was sure he was just too worn out to fight her. She was about to wear him out more though, regretfully.

She held him tightly, touching the back of his head that was furthest from his wound, and activating her level three ESPer ability to try and stimulate his damaged brain. It was a test—a necessary one that was her mission, and for a little girl, she took this very seriously.

"It's Misaka's turn to save you, Misaka says as Misaka does a deep dive into your psyche."

Accelerator was overcome with little buzzes and zaps in his head. It felt like chemical reactions were happening and mini explosions were breaking out inside his brain. Suddenly, he realized he was in a hospital. One of the jolts sounded like a gunshot and a lump formed in his throat as he recalled being shot in the head while… His eyes snapped opened and he tried to pull away, but something else was holding him in place. He saw the brat and grimaced. What was she... _hugging_ him?

Last Order seemed to notice his clarity returning through one open eye while in deep concentration. She was only level three so she could just barely focus all her energy on giving him basic operating capabilities. It was all she could do. It was basic. But that was why Dr. Gekota was going to create a device that was able to channel the MISAKA network for her. Basically, she was currently acting as an electrode through her own fingertips. But her savior was looking more and more agitated instead of grateful.

"Misaka doesn't think you heard her before, but Misaka wants to thank you for saving her, Misaka exclaims while focusing really hard so you can understand her!"

For the first time, he had heard words he was able to interpret and felt the mini explosions continue in his head. He opened his mouth to reply, shut it, sighed, and then growled in an exasperated and tired voice, "Why are you hugging me, brat." It wasn't a question; it was a warning. Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, the door to the room swung open, and he recognized the frog-faced man as the doctor. Ah, so that's what was happening. He had been shot in the head right when he was stripping the last of the virus from Last Order's mind. The bullet that should have blown his brains all over the pavement, he was able to deflect before it entered his brain. What was it a damaged frontal cortex or was it— He hissed in immediate and earth shattering pain that blended the colors in the room together and ate black at the sides of his vision. " _Fuuckkk..._ "

"As I said, though you couldn't understand me then. Don't try and think too hard. You need to control your thoughts or you will succumb to the injury by overwhelming the low capacity of your brain function. Your brain is a special one, as it allows you to calculate on a nano level even while unconscious whilst you were losing your processing function, but don't push it," the doctor said making his slow approach and tapping at the empty bag that hung next to the IV fluid to make sure it was completely empty. That bag belonged to the morphine drip that had run out quite a few hours ago, purposely waking up him and keeping him lucid enough for said test. He had to be in pain though, but it was necessary suffering if it would allow for him to be even remotely normal again. "Are you hearing me?"

 _That_ pissed him off. In fact, everything was suddenly pissing him off. In the LED shade that Last Order's arms provided, he glowered at the doctor like a vicious animal that was trying to be coaxed back into a cage. _Like hell._ He went to move away from her again, but felt a jolt that made his muscles feel tense and rubbery. He didn't like that either. This whole fucking thing. Offhandedly, he even wondered if maybe it would have been better if he had gone out with a bang, saving the brat as his last act.

"Yeah, I hear you," he eventually murmured, taking a while to formulate words and bury his thoughts.

"Good-good," he replied, putting a light hand on Accelerator's shoulder. "It seems this may be the direction we are able to head in, but first, let me explain." He studied the boy's eyes to make sure he was following. They were seething, but had a level of intelligence in them that surprised even him. He continued.

"When you were shot in the head by Amai Ao, you received serious damage to your frontal cortex that will affect your mobility, speech, calculative and conclusion-drawing abilities. I'm afraid the neurons will never recover. You'll be able to observe, but you won't be able to do anything about it or perhaps even realize what you are observing."

"So what does that mean?" Accelerator spat out dispassionately without thinking it through. Well, the frog doctor said himself not to think too hard. Then he should be more damn clear when explaining what was wrong with him. How was he going to live like this then—become a fucking vegetable—rely on everyone else to keep him alive? _Just pull the damn plug_. This was too much already. Plus, scum like him didn't deserve a second chance, despite the dormant vested hope that surged between his thoughts. His heart began to clamber violently against his chest. Was this the end—the end of the great Accelerator? Was this how he was going out... in a hospital, making decisions with a brat stimulating his brain so he could even think clearly? Fuck that.

"It means you'll be a vegetable."

Accelerator's heart nearly stopped in his chest and the machines responded in tandem. He hated that despite his blank expression, the wailing of the machines were giving away his inner monologue. He felt like he was going to throw up and he felt so weak that Last Order had to suddenly grab him harder to hold him up so as to not lose the connection. The doctor side-glanced at the data being shown on the screens and looked back at him with concern.

"I know it's a shock, but you need to relax. And I need you lucid so I shouldn't give you more benzodiazepine." He squeezed the boy's shoulder and let go, glancing at the displays again that kept firing off. Accelerator was verging on a panic attack, maybe now wasn't the best time… It was to be expected at least—even Academy City's #1 was still human after all. But still, if this continued it would be severely damaging to his recovery and could be adding further strain and damage to the injury. He decided to communicate it, even while not aware of how he would take it. He had a syringe ready if necessary.

"If you try and think too much or too hard in this state, you will end up causing more damage to your brain by over exerting its capacity. You could end up in even worse a state than you are now if you keep pushing so hard."

He was hearing the words, but with Last Order's help, his thoughts were coming in like comments on a viral social media post. His eyes were literally shaking. In fact his whole body was shaking and he felt so, so cold—like ice was running under the surface of his skin and into his bones. It hurt. It hurt so bad everything started to have a glow. He was hyperventilating and he couldn't stop thinking about not thinking and trying to put up walls on his own habits that were trained into him since day one.

" _It means you'll be a vegetable."_ So was he to continue living like this? It was like telling a dead person they were going to be stuck with not existing. Should he have just killed Last Order—should he be regretting it right now with how things ended up fucking him over? Why hadn't he let go when the bullet was whistling towards him as if in slow motion—why had he continued recalibrating her mind until the very last second? Wait. _Recalibrating her mind_. How did she know he had saved her? Did fucking Yoshikawa tell her? No, that scientist wasn't one to share information obligingly with children. What then?

He was clutching his head at this point with all the strength left in his fingers, breath strained and uneven as his veins raced with an emotion he was not at all familiar with. _Fear_. it gripped him with violent, black tendrils, laced with barbs of no escape. It's skeletal reality reflected through the eyes of every clone he had slaughtered in cold blood. Had he even been afraid before? Had they all felt like this—all 10,031? During the experiments, when he reflected that first bullet without even trying, had she felt this chase of inevitability clutching at the fabric of her being and dragging her under? This was something he couldn't deflect. In fact, he could never deflect again. He was lucky now that he could even have educated thoughts. And yet through the corpses and stricken terror, something still stuck. A question. One of the questions he asked needed an answer before he became a vegetable again.

"How do you…" Something pinched and stuck into the side of his neck.

It was better to inject him there rather than in the IV. The doctor was looking for a quick result and was planning on putting the test they were performing with Last Order on hold for now. His patient was going into shock and he wasn't sure if his heart could hold out.

Last Order stopped sending signals and let go of her grip on Accelerator's head. He sagged onto her lap, red eyes glazing over. With just the last bits of electricity left stimulating his speech, he finished.

"...remember me?" Everything went black.


	2. Waking up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist:   
> Waking Up - STARSET (credit to the lyrics used below)

_Is this real?_

_'Cause I can't feel_

_I reach into the darkness_

_And there's nothing to hold_

_Try to heal_

_But spin my wheels_

_The more I try to stop this_

_The more I lose control_

Last Order had heard Accelerator's question and spent the rest of the day wondering how she would answer it. She, of course, consulted the MISAKA network for help, getting a slew of candid opinions that did everything but speak for her. From their collective hivemind, it was clear the general consensus was to address it immediately with him the next opportunity she got. It seemed important for him to know even if Last Order felt displaced in telling him that she had essentially 'redownloaded' her own memories like a robot…

The rest of the next few days dragged by and she was getting anxious and prone to acting out. No one was looking after her and she had no one to talk to except Yoshikawa and Dr. Gekota _sometimes_ when he wasn't busy running simulated tests on a new device he was creating that would allow the connection between the MISAKA network and Accelerator's aphasia-induced brain. The highlights of her time were when she got to participate and try syncing the choker-like prototype with the MISAKA network, always warning the girls prior who were rather indifferent towards it. She was relieved they weren't at all resistant to a separate entity getting computational access, considering half had lost their lives to said entity in that experiment. And yet...the other half had been saved by him, including the control tower herself. She tilted her head to the side. Perhaps that was why. Did that make him even or was that one act not enough to rewrite what he had done? One could not bring back the dead, after all. Who got to decide that? Could she?

"Last Order? I was talking to you, but you seem to be lost in thought. What's wrong?" It was Yoshikawa, propped up in her hospital bed, eyeing a plump of red, waggling jello uncomfortably. Her eye contact didn't leave the jiggly thing as she spoke. "Did you want this?" She almost sounded like she was begging the girl to take it away. How could people eat such a strange substance?! It was unbelievable to her that a mixture of gelatin and sugar was considered a dessert.

"Yesss Misaka wants that, says Misaka as she whisks away the jello and devours it."

Yoshikawa couldn't watch and had to look away. That was when a nurse rushed in, looking shaken up. It alerted both of them right away. Last Order dropped the spoon and was already moving towards the door like something had happened.

"Your…" The nurse paused, forgetting that she didn't know who the white-haired, red-eyed ESPer was to either of them. She hit a wall verbally, blushed and just silently led Last Order out of the room with her, leaving Yoshikawa behind in confusion.

Well, what—he woke up or he what? She knew the strongest ESPer wasn't out of the woods by a long shot. They had staff checking his specs every hour and were, for the most part, keeping him under to heal and avoid any problems. So what was this about? She wasn't informed this was going to happen and the whole thing suddenly made her nervous.

Taking a mental step back, was she starting to care for him? This brought about a whole nother string of thoughts to assail her scientific and analytical mind. What were they going to do with the children after all this—if say, Accelerator was able to recover? Certainly, she wanted to keep an eye on them... _they were just children_. Having half the mind to press the emergency panic button and demand answers, instead, she picked up her freshly charged phone and started a conversation with a friend, despite not being much of one—a conversation-starter, that is…

* * *

Heaven Canceller was already in Accelerator's hospital room before Last Order burst through the door, out of breath, nurse in the dust. Normally energetic and way too happy-go-lucky, she had a serious look on her face now. It reminded him of a certain someone he knew, whom she would likely call the Original. It was quite the look she had on, save for that ahoge, which threw off her attempts at playing any role aside from that of herself. He shook his head with a kind look and drew his attention back on the teenager who was stirring, but struggling to come to.

He couldn't blame the boy; being unconscious for more than a few days had to make one feel like coming back from the dead. Not that he wasn't, per say. Hopefully this time, the doctor could vest some hope of recovery in him. Leaning over, he motioned to Last Order.

"Before he's fully awake and realizes he can't think again, activate his mind to help him out." He gave another kind smile and was surprised when Last Order didn't say anything and simply padded over and reached for him with little hands. She was crying again. It must be hard being so new to this world and having to see someone like this, he sympathized.

It was _so_ fucking hard. Why the hell was it so goddamn hard to just— Red irises opened to join the room and lazily drift around. He felt small shocks running through his skull and immediately determined that it was the brat's doing. Sure enough, her short hair was tickling(?)...his nose?! He wrinkled it and lurched back further into the pillow to try and avoid the weird feeling. What was that sensation?! It blew his mind up and he just barely grasped that the outside world and all its vectors now had free reign to enter his AIM Diffusion Field without any form of deflection. _He was vulnerable._ To being tickled no less.

As soon as his eyes met hers, Last Order forced a smile. Accelerator frowned, seeing the effort there. He must really look like shit.

"Misaka took back her memories from a backup that was stored on the MISAKA network, Misaka says while concentrating really hard."

"Hah?" The white-haired ESPer, currently sprawled on the bed, trying to dodge loose hairs from a 10-year-old clone, now looked confused. But as soon as the intensity of the mini head explosions continued, it dawned on him with the rest of the previous events. While a twang of coldness cranked through him, the answer to his question was enough of a distraction for him to latch onto and redirect his focus. "You're able to do that—back yourself up?" He wanted to know more, but didn't press the brat further.

She nodded. And something akin to surprise ran over him violently all of a sudden. His expression changed and it almost looked like he was blushing. Was it...a fever? She leaned closer to press their cheeks together, not that she could tell if he felt hot by doing said gester, but it was worth the motion to try. He barely seemed to notice it though. Inwardly, he was toiling over the new found information, running it over and over again in his head as if it was somehow falsified.

_**So she remembered him then.** _

Even if she was better off forgetting him altogether, her memories of him were sticking around, _permanently_. This meant she could've heard what he'd said that night? When he had glimpsed redemption and thought that maybe he'd get a second chance himself. Now it just felt like an ironic joke.

The doctor whipped out a bright-ass light as if on queue and flashed it straight into the boy's pupils while tapping his chin stubble.

"Feel anything?"

"Uhm, you blinding me?" Accelerator growled, his tone of voice returning to its usual cold hostility.

Determining something, the doctor drew the light away and asked a different kind of question, knowing, in theory, what the extent of Accelerator's brain capacity should be. There was a chance, however, too much of it was lost, and a possibility he wouldn't even be able to hold the computation ability of the MISAKA network. But he was Heaven Canceller; if something wasn't possible, he just had to make it so. Of course, none of this was communicated to the boy; instead, just a simple question. No need to worry his pretty little head. It wasn't simple though.

"If 3 _x_ − _y_ =12, what is the value of

8  
_x_

over

2  
_y_?"

"2^12," Accelerator answered immediately with an eyebrow raise. The doctor nearly dropped his pen, but was smiling and managed to fumble it back into a writing position to jot a few things down. By now though, Accelerator was scowling up a storm, and he didn't seem to be suffering any of the adverse effects from his condition he had been previously feeling. Hm, it was very interesting that such a thing had worked. He had administered a new drug stimulant just a few hours before, hoping to some degree it would help bolster his brain's reaction to Last Order's ability and keep him focused and less panicky. If he could just mimic the effects of the drug within the design of the device he was working on then… "Why?" Accelerator spat out, distracting him from his thoughts.

"I just need to run some tests to see how we can hook you up successfully to the MISAKA network."

"Huh?" His eyebrows furrowed as if he wasn't understanding the words, but it wasn't that or that he wasn't grasping their meaning; it was simply new information he had yet to soak in far enough to surmise a response. Leaning against the back of the bed for a few seconds, he looked from Last Order back to the frog-faced doctor and sighed. "You mean to say you are planning on making this permanent?" He went to motion with his head at the brat, but stopped himself, lest he ruin the brief moment of painless clarity.

"Precisely—well, not exactly in that Last Order isn't going to be perched on your shoulders like a monkey for the rest of your life. She certainly would need to rest."

Said monkey child stuck out her tongue at that and let a little giggle escape, immediately refocusing herself. She could barely react or talk with how much concentration she had to put into sending the bioelectric waves at just the right pulses through the damaged parts of his frontal cortex without hurting him. There just were no books on this. This was unknown territory, and little as she was, she still crossed it unhesitatingly. For him.

"What is it then? Spit it out already." He seemed rushed despite being completely still. He just didn't know if in the next moment he'd lose his ability to process what was going on. With his harsh tone and vicious expression was an underlying terror. If it happened again, he wouldn't even be able to ask for release from it—let alone needing to ask at all.

"I'm designing a device—an electrode to be more precise. It will perform the necessary stimulus Last Order is doing for basic brain function and it will allow for the MISAKA network to perform the needed calculations for your vector control and deflection."

"Hah…" Accelerator trailed off, confirming that he heard, but feeling an odd dissociation to the words being spoken. It was all too much. It was then that he felt something snuggle up to him and immediately pulled away from it on impulse, as if the mere feeling of being touched was completely alien to him. It was Last Order nuzzling his cheek with her own. This jarred him out of whatever daze he was falling into.

"Misaka will be the one that saves you now, Misaka declares as Misaka snuggles."

" _Snuggles_?"

"Snuggles~"

An odd silence settled on the room until the doctor cleared his throat and pulled out a long, metal pole from nowhere. "I can see that you need your rest, Accelerator, but I have one final test I need to run before I can proceed."

He didn't like the sound of the word test or the look of the _ pole. The fuck? Pieces were missing from his perception, he noted. Blanks. He should have known what type of metal the pole was. He should know all sorts of things that were just...dead ends. His subconscious interpretation was no longer performing. His conscious interpretation was… he still didn't know what that damn pole was made out of. It looked light. Not steel. It wasn't shiny… So much work already over such a simple deduction. He'd be dead if it took him this long. Is this what it felt like to be a level zero—to be _that_ certain guy? Even idiots could be heroes, he guessed. And yet still hadn't guessed what the damn pole was.

Frog-face had an unreadable expression as he paused and then continued, "This is an aluminum pole. I want you to try and bend it."

 _Easy_. Wait no, fuck. He mentally cursed and reached out a slender hand towards the doctor. "Give it." This wasn't going to work. He couldn't even figure out what the material even was let alone the calculation to manipulate a kinetic vector… "I'll do it," he growled through clenched teeth.

The doctor exchanged a look with Last Order and handed the pole to him. He took it and without sparing a second, flicked it. Nothing happened, save for a dull pain in his middle finger. Crafty bastard. Just wanted to rub it in that he couldn't use his vector control. It wasn't like some fucking miracle was going to happen. What was the point of getting his hopes up like that? Hell, where did the precipice for such hope in him even come from to begin with?! He was going to be a fucking vegetable!

The doctor was handing something to Last Order. It was a formula on a piece of paper, but it was missing a few blanks. Last Order read it, memorized it and closed her eyes. They were going to fill in the blanks.

"Now try it again."

"No."

"Are you afraid of failing?" It was cruel, but he more-or-less knew the boy's personality type.

"Fuck you." He flashed the finger up at him. This was a better, far more accurate use for his middle finger than being made a mockery of. "I'll do it."

The doctor smirked.

Accelerator flicked the pole again and nearly had to let go of it with the amount of force that shuddered through it. The metal bent all the way up, forming zigzags of destruction exactly as he had envisioned. "Wha…" Speechless, he stared at the pole as if it had been divined from the heavens straight out of his imagination. He had been unable to do any calculation for it so...how?

"And that's a wrap!" The doctor clapped his hands and didn't bother hiding the look of success from the fine, sullen lines of his face. He turned around to take notes. Accelerator was blinking furiously, feeling lightheaded and woozy all at the same time. The confusion he felt at seeing his vector control activate was beginning to amplify into something else.

Pain slithered its way into recognition, lancing his skull with blows that would knock a lesser ESPer out cold. The fuzz of the electricity racing through seemed to add to it, creating odd sensations and waves to the steady agony. It was so much pain that it made artwork of the colors of the room, extenuating them into disgusting neon oil stains in midair. The bent pole shrieked a cacophonous sound as it dropped from his slackened hand to the floor. He _felt_ the noise from it.

The doctor turned from his notes to look at him and seemed disappointed. "Accelerator, you're bleeding." Stating the obvious, he leaned over the boy that looked shell-shocked and was staring off into nothingness. Conscious at least. He waved a hand in front of his face and elicited no response. That couldn't be good. Had the transfer of calculations broken his mind or was it… "Accelerator," the doctor got closer up in his face, pulling out a pair of sterile scissors to cut away the soaking bandages from his head whilst really hoping Last Order wasn't seeing this. She was. She was right against him, how could she not? "I'm going to need you to tell me what's going on so I can fix it."

Red eyes that were blindly fixated darted to the doctor's face. He saw there so much darkness. "...h-hurts," he rasped.

"Okay," the doctor softly replied in a soothing tone so as to not worry his patient at all. He was at least understanding him. "Nurse! Get me gauze, bandages, towels." He saw the nurse that had 'led' Last Order there move for a supply closet. Before she returned, Dr. Gekota looked at Last Order who was sweating profusely. She was at her limit too. "Last Order can you hold him just a little longer?"

She nodded and bit her lip, sucking in a deep breath. Would this make her a level 3.5?! Mayybee? She saw the nurse return and was slightly worried when the doctor immediately grabbed up the towel and dabbed at Accelerator's ears and nose to make sure the flow had stopped. It seemed it had only been brief. Then, he cautiously started to work on the teenager's forehead. He threw the soiled bandages that he had cut off into a pan on the bedside table. The stitches hadn't come loose it looked like so that was good, but… Dr. Gekota still had a serious look on his face. This was his battlefield.

"Accelerator, can you still hear me? I need you to try and tell me the source of what you're feeling right now."

There was a pause and then slowly, he slurred the words out, "...it's my h-head. Feels like so much pressure..."

"Okay," he said again, "I'm going to just make sure of something and then we can make it stop." He felt a hand clasp his wrist just as he was about to check beneath the stitches for hemorrhaging and froze, turning his gaze to the patient who had spoken nothing. Instead, the look in his red eyes had said it all. "Who do you think I am? I am Heaven Canceller and I'll see to it that you are healed." The hand cascaded off his wrist, he watched it and their eyes met again to make sure he was still conscious.

Last Order was breathing heavily and making a face at the doctor so he quickly went to work. The nurse handed him another towel, since the one he had was soaked through. He tossed it into the pan and after a short while—about 2 minutes with MRI-replacement goggles—carefully determined there was no danger of internal bleeding or further damage to his brain. He sighed with relief, since that would have created some roadblocks in his plans.

"Get him another transfusion and something for the pain."

By now, Accelerator looked strung up by the beads of electric transmitting to his brain and that was all that was holding him centered in reality. If Last Order were to just let go of him now, it would be a risk that could force him into a coma. They both recognized this as the nurse returned.

His eyes looked so dulled by the pain it was bridging on dangerous. Heaven Canceller motioned to the nurse to set up the bags and connected them to his IV. Now they just had to wait a few moments...

A fog set in, but the screeching, searing pain slowly tapered out into a buzzing, pounding delirium. He opened his eyes and then closed them again when he felt Last Order slowly reducing the bioelectricity until… The formulation of the thought stopped dead and he couldn't remember what conclusion it was going to draw. He just felt a warmth climb to his side and nestle into the sheets with him. He cracked an eye, breath coming out in short gasps. Last Order? She held a finger up to her lips and smiled. He briefly realized they were alone before finally passing out.


	3. Open Your Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist:  
> Everglow - STARSET (credit to the lyrics used below)  
> Humans - The Faim

_Everglow_

_You'll never know_

_The beauty I see when you open your shadows_

_Everglow_

_They'll never know_

_The worlds that I see in the darkness you don't show_

Accelerator did not wake again until after the second surgery, conducted to install the choker-styled electrode, which occurred some days following what was dubbed as: 'the bending of the aluminum pole' test. Last Order had slept that whole following day with him and was a groggy, grumbly mess the next. When she next found Dr. Gekota, the device for the electrode was completed and ready for calibration with the MISAKA network. They ran a few more simulations in real time with the network before concluding that there was only one thing left to do: hook him up.

During all this, Yoshikawa eventually found out what actually occurred when she was abandoned by the girl, but had set about her own task of contacting a friend. Her name was Yomikawa Aiho of Anti-Skill. They had met in their school years (due to the fact that their family names were so terribly similar) and instantly hit it off as stark opposites. Aiho would be the perfect one to bring into this, especially as she had been the one to bring down the Special Ability Institute, (the place where Accelerator was raised until he was nine). She was also a school teacher and knew how to deal with children, she was naturally doting, and had maternal instincts that would put any real mother to shame. Yoshikawa was glad for it because now she was going to take full advantage of every asset her long-term friend had. In fact, she was sure the voluptuous tracksuit-wearing woman was on her way over to the hospital to visit as she...contemplated quietly to herself alone in the bleak hospital room (when she really wanted to visit Accelerator in the ICU, but couldn't).

Last Order was having the same problem (they were rubbing off on each other). Her face was pressed so hard against the ICU glass that, from the other side, she'd look like a melted wax figure.

"But Misaka can't touch him from here, whines Misaka as Misaka makes faces with the glass."

"It's safer this way; he's in a sensitive state. Now come along and let him rest in peace without having goblin faces made at him," Heaven Canceller said with a chuckle. Not that the word 'sensitive' belonged as a descriptor for the #1 level 5 of Academy City, but to a doctor who knew his body better than he did himself, it certainly did. Anyone would argue with him, he knew, but there was hope yet for Last Order who was eyeing the doctor in awe. She, too, knew what lay hidden in the darkness he didn't show, possibly more so than Dr. Gekota anyways. She, after all, had access to all the Sister's memories.

"When will Misaka know if it's working?"

Heaven Canceller raised an eyebrow at this question, while noting the clone's verbal tic had started to gradually fall off at random points over the past few days. It did not happen every time she spoke anymore, and when she didn't explain her dialogue at the end of every sentence, it was usually something pertaining to Accelerator. A very interesting change indeed. He bent down to her, sparing a last glance at the prone teenager through the glass.

"We won't be able to tell for certain until he wakes up, which won't be for a couple more hours. And remember, when he does, you will need to give him some space to adjust. It's going to be a hard transition for him, considering where he's coming from as the #1. Let's give him until after lunch."

* * *

_CRASH!_

Something fell. His eyes hurt to move. The floor was cold underneath his palms, knees likely a little bruised from landing. Wires were pulling against him like leashes, making him feel like he was being controlled by someone or something. It was almost flashback-worthy, considering he had never been hospitalized before. He stared at the blank floor with shaking eyes, trying to catch his breath while his thoughts collided against themselves in clattering redundancy and increasing clarity. The more time that passed, the more uneven his breaths became, until suddenly, he looked up and unclenched his jaw. He recognized where he was in the ICU, what must have happened, and his status quo.

Because Last Order was nowhere to be seen, there must be _something_ that was providing an 'assist' to his damaged brain and connecting him to the MISAKA network(?). He raised a hand, balancing his weight on the other, so he could feel around his person. Something tight was pressed against his neck where more wires were hanging down. _I'll be Frankenstein in no time_ , his sarcastic thoughts cackled. Distracted, his fingers got tangled and he tugged on one of the black wires that was attached to the choker-like device around his neck. The hand he was leaning on suddenly weakened and collapsed from his weight while the vision out of that same side spiked like someone had jostled the antenna on an old TV. His chin hit the floor and he almost bit his tongue.

"Hhnn…" It was supposed to be a curse, but came out more like a groan as he picked himself back up and instantly removed his hand from the vicinity of the choker so it couldn't compromise his current functionality. He deduced it was not a good idea to mess with any of the wires further and considered hoisting himself back into the bed if he could find the strength to, but— He grabbed the nearest trashcan and heaved the emptiness that was his stomach into it, all the while shocked inwardly that such a thing was happening.

"Sh-shit," he managed to exhale, gasping as another wave of nausea gripped him. His body tried again to purge the empty contents of his organs by squeezing his insides together, but nothing came out except gagging coughs and whispered curses. White-knuckled hands wiped away the tears that were pinched out of his eyes (lest anyone see) just in time for the second glass ICU door to buzz open and jolt him out of his suffering. In walked the doctor all done up in his surgeon gear.

"Having fun down there?" As an added thought: "You should have stayed put."

"Tch." This at least told him Accelerator was comprehending, yet was too weak to come up with a snarky retort. The doctor let a self-satisfied smile show as he realized he was starting to understand the intricacies of his patient. The smile, however, was deflected back by a vicious glare that looked like it had come from a wild animal caught in a trap. This, of course, was not the case at all. Though, to Accelerator, it was his personal reality that, contrary to victimizing oneself, was the epitome of villainizing himself into believing he deserved every ounce of adversity he faced.

"Let's get you back." the doctor placed his hands under the patient's arms and was about to lift when Accelerator gagged again at the slightest movement. By now, the room was spinning and whatever plans the doctor had for him were going to be vehemently denied...by him sticking his face in the trashcan and wishing he could vanish back into the darkness whilst he came.

"Ah, I should expect you to have side effects of the anesthesia. You've been in and out so much, it's no wonder." The doctor was talking to himself because Accelerator wasn't listening, (well, he had heard him, but was choosing to ignore him whilst being focused on trying to breathe inside the trashcan where no one could see him). "Still, you can't just stay down there all day. There's a little girl that will want to see you."

Accelerator lifted an eye from in the trashcan and tilted his head so he could briefly see from over the ridge. "Keep the brat away," he rasped. His throat hurt. Whether it was he didn't want her to see him like this or the fact that she would annoy him closer to the grave than he already was, was to be determined. "And no...mo..re…drugs."

While he was trying to sound intimidating with his growl, Heaven Canceller just thought it was cute that he felt well enough to try so hard. The ESPer had clearly noticed the discarded oxygen mask that the doctor was now approaching him with, hence the second verse of his demands. None of which were going to be passed through. Before he could resist, his head was drawn out of the trashcan and the mask was snapped back over his face. The forced airflow made his head tingle and he glowered at the doctor.

"Relax. It's just oxygen. Sure, you might feel it slightly, but it's nothing compared to what you have running through your system already, speaking of drugs. And plus, this will help you _breathe_ instead of hyperventilate. We can't have your brain lacking oxygen right now."

He hadn't even realized he was struggling to get air in between coughs. As he felt the air force-reset his diaphragm, he glanced back upward, his tired, pensive look turning to that of resignation. _Fine. He could have it his way, besides, there was no point in trying to struggle against the inevitable._ He mentally sighed, while just trying to breathe for a while and calm down. A few minutes passed in silence until the doctor stopped scribbling on his notepad and crouched down to Accelerator's place on the floor, huddled next to a trashcan and shivering uncontrollably.

"Well, if you're at least going to stay down there, don't catch a cold." The doctor wrapped a large blanket around his thin form and put his hands on his hips as if he were taking in a picturesque landscape like the Grand Canyon or some shit. It must have been a sight. Accelerator forced a blank look and clutched the blanket closer around himself, proceeding to stare at the ground when another wave hit him. He bit his lip and willed it down, but it surged and he started cough-gagging into the mask, eventually removing it to perch back over the trash can and spit out bile. When his awareness returned to his surroundings, frog-face was just coming back through the door with a loud beep. Vaguely, he wondered where he had gone when suddenly a scrub-clad Last Order nearly collided with him.

"Easy, easy," Heaven Canceller said.

"Misaka missed you so much, Misaka Misaka exclaims while trying to hug you...with care."

"Arhhh!" Accelerator caught her, but wasn't too pleased when the impact made his intestines go up into his throat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, tilting her head to the side and forcing a full styrofoam cup into his free hand that wasn't gripping the trash can like a life support.

How the hell was he supposed to answer that?! What did it look like? He was stuck on the damn floor shivering like a street sign in a hurricane with a damned fuzzy blanket wrapped around him, barely getting out words for lack of air.

"Not as bad as I thought," he managed to answer in an eerily quiet tone while impulsively taking a sip of the cup without thinking it through. He nearly spit it out all over the small child in his lap. "What is this sugary garb—!?"

The deadpan look that followed was scarier than any he had ever seen before, let alone from a little brat. The rest of his sentence caught in his throat, eyes gaping.

"Drink. It."

He compiled despite the high fructose corn syrup making him want to knock out all his teeth to save himself from cavity torment later. The sweetness was sickening, but he didn't immediately throw it up…

"Why are you making me drink soda, you shitty brat?" His widened eyes now looked inquiring and he tossed the empty, finished cup into the conveniently 'nearby' trash can that apparently was his new companion.

"It's ginger ale!" She gleefully smiled. "Dr. Gekota said that ginger ale helps with an upset stomach."

"Haah…" He blinked and looked back up at the doctor while Last Order crawled further into the refuge of the fuzzy blanket and got way too close to him. When it wasn't tearing limbs off a person or reversing their body's blood flow, he had never... "Wha—what are you doing?"

"Misaka is warming you up!" She pressed her cheek into his shoulder and inquisitively eyed all the wires that were tangled and connected to the wall. "Then, we're going to get you back up there, Misaka says as she points back at the bed you're supposed to be in."

"Hm, it really seems to be working," Heaven Canceller said incredulously, while observing the pair. Eventually, he and Last Order heaved the ESPer up to his feet where he clearly favored his left side. He couldn't walk himself, but he was sure the boy would recover much of his mobility with the help of rehability couple with the stimulation of his normal brain functions from the MISAKA network. That all had to be taken in stride though. For the time being, Accelerator was just adjusting to the fact that people could touch him and that there was no filter. For anything.

His shivering had died down with Last Order so close to him, but he felt now he had to shiver about other things...like the fact that he was letting someone this close to him or...the fact that she regained her memories. That didn't even cover the fact that he had somehow dodged being crippled and was clearly able to think relatively normally now. This damn city was a scary place to be able to fix a cripple. But nothing would be as terrifying as the return of Academy City's #1 to the darkside. He smirked sadistically to himself, getting a puzzled look back from the brat. He quickly hid the scary look, seeing in her eyes those of the countless many clones whose blood he had spilled.

She was the only one that could fully know what he had done. 'The dead have no memories' did not apply here. The third-rate herself could not even comprehend fully what he had done, not that hero, maybe not even he himself had a full grasp of what it was like to die 10,031 times. She knew and yet she… wanted to be this close to him? Faintly, he wondered if it was because he had saved her and she was having some different form of Stockholm syndrome that shone over all his past undoings. But even a small fee of paying back a huge debt did nothing for surmounting the crushing interest. She had to understand that too, and yet… He frowned.

It was a colorful display of varying emotions that showed on his face, but eventually the two of them were settled back onto the bed, Last Order climbing in with him and proceeding to keep him from violently shivering. It was another side-effect of the recent surgery, but it was likely one that would stick with him, since he could no longer control vectors at his whim. He would never fully heal from the gunshot and the electrode was always going to be a weakness, an impediment, and a crutch. The only thing Last Order could do aside from giving him access to the MISAKA network would be to give him someone he would want to return to.

She didn't have a full grasp of what kind of hidden darkness he faced or how it controlled him, but she knew he was only resistant to goodwill by habit—a self-hate that was trained into him from all the many fatal attempts on his life and abused experimentation, (much like the Level 6 Shift Project the Sisters had been a part of).

She knew it was lonely at the top—that he must have been attacked so often that he grew accustomed to causing harm and being hated for being untouchable. It villainized him, and he was forced into a mindset that made those windup doll deaths seem like just another fight on his way to becoming unobtainable. When, ultimately, in the end, all he wanted was to stop hurting people… When, really, he just wished they ran in fear from him so he would have an excuse to stop. When he, instead, had grown so haphazardly into the lapsed sanity of enjoying the hunt, bloodshed, carnage, and evil invincibility…that he lost all concept for anything else. That was why he resisted anything that didn't make sense to his villainized facade—that was why he laughed so maniacally when he was angry. It made sense to her, but it was only because...she had seen all the Sister's memories and held them all. ...and because she had seen the beauty that was hidden there when he opened his shadows to her that night…

Yet in that vulnerability he briefly showed, he was willing to go so far to take a bullet for it. Right between the eyes. It was no simple choice. It was a pure, underrived inaction that revealed his inner truth through all the ribbons of constructed neglect. He had never had anyone to protect. That was why he had never been given a chance to become who he really was.

* * *

"I lost my job." It wasn't her best lead-in. Yoshikawa sighed and Yomikawa leaned forward in exasperation.

"What!? You what?!"

"The experiment I was working on was entirely shut down. I can't say much more than that…"

"Well, how did that happen? Why didn't you call me?"

Yoshikawa frowned, having run through these questions in her head already. She still didn't like her choreographed answers that played to the sympathy card, especially for someone as naive and unkind as herself. It was out of character. "There's someone I wanted to save," she paused, "but I couldn't do it alone…"

Yomikawa got even closer, her dark eyes ablaze with some latent heroism, touching on surprise. Kikyo...wanted to save someone? It sounded like someone was making a bad joke. She was cool, calculated, and dispassionate, but that did not mean she wasn't one of her most trusted friends, and that didn't mean she couldn't change. After all, could one really stay empathetically disconnected forever? Surely one day the world would come knocking. Perhaps, for her, it had. _Roughly_. A look of sympathy crossed her face, but she smothered it down with seriousness, sensing something else beneath it all. "Who was it?"

"Accelerator."

Yomikawa's pupils shrunk to nothing and she was sure she would need to be defibrillated in another moment. A cold look came over her and she dropped it on top of her friend like a bucket of ice. "Was this…"

Yoshikawa was shaking her head slowly, eyes closed. She opened them and looked at her honestly. "It just happened that way and I acted like I thought I should. I finally…"

"That incident on August 31st. You were involved?" Aiho wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she certainly was the most unforgiving. When she found something, she latched onto it and didn't let go. "Accelerator? Why did he need saving—how?"

"He also wanted to save someone…"

Yomikawa finally smiled, it was a quiet, controlled smile that didn't enter her eyes. Instead, there was a sadness there—a trauma. She glanced down at her gun holster and then back up at Yoshikawa. "I'll do it. Whatever it is."

Yoshikawa very uncharacteristically clapped her hands together once like a little girl (hint: Last Order) and grinned wildly. "So you'll put me up until I can get work? And you'll take in Accelerator and Last Order to come live with you? And you'll look after them while I'm in here? And…"

Yomikawa had a palm on her head, gripping her hair and cursing her own stupidity. She should have known this was all a trap from the start. Yet Yoshikawa seemed to suddenly lose consciousness, so Yomikawa couldn't even get a word in of resistance. She had no choice but to look after those two special kids...

* * *

"Misaka has been doing this to you the whole time you've been asleep, Misaka declares while wondering why you think it's weird now."

"Because I'm conscious now. Just get off me you damned brat!"

It was getting rather rowdy in the ICU towards the late afternoon. And while Heaven Canceller ran specs on Accelerator's vitals, brain waves, and blood pressure, the two of them hit it off like they'd known each other their whole lives. He saw a spike in the latter and while it wasn't good, it also made him laugh.

"Tone it down over there. Don't let him get too excited or before you know it, he'll be blowing holes in the walls and we can have that in here." The doctor didn't bother hiding his all-knowing chuckle while the white-haired, red-eyed monster tilted his bandaged head to the side with a raised eyebrow.

"Ahn?" He readjusted his position to one as far away from Last Order as he could be without falling off the bed. "Do you have a screw loose, doc? Does it look like I'm in any shape to go blowing holes in walls when I can't even…" He trailed off, remembering the aluminum pole and a devilish, crescent-shaped smile split over his face, dripping with anticipation. So they had figured out a way to activate his ability, had they? Weren't ready to tell him about it perhaps out of fear? He clenched his fist as tight as he could muster and torqued his body to slam it into the wall. He'd show those crafty bastards for keeping secrets!

Effectively, nothing happened.

"Waaa!" Last Order yelled from her spot on the pillows where she had been hugging him. She climbed over them to get back to him and wrapped her hands around his fist with a pouty face and puffed out cheeks. Her hands too got blood on them.

"Anything broken?" The doctor asked specifically to Accelerator, walking over slowly as if he didn't want to see the result of his impulsive actions.

"..."

Last Order uncovered his hand and the look on the #1's face said it all. He had fallen so far. Darkness crossed his eyes and he pursed his lips in frustration and pain. There seemed to be so many thoughts washing through him that the verbal communication sector of his brain was completely shut down.

His knuckles were gushing. That was about it on the outside. Inwardly, it was a mess. Even consciously, he couldn't activate his vector control? Without his powers, what was he really? Not even a monster, just a murderer? His inner turmoil was cut short when antiseptic was dumped over his hand and it began to fizz red.

"Tch." He looked from the site of searing pain and to the doctor who looked really disappointed in him. He almost felt bad for a second and then realized he didn't have that emotion. Musta traded it for some survival instinct when he was a child.

"I wanted to confirm we were in the green first before explaining things to you. I apologize it took me so long."

Accelerator had run out of vocabulary at some point and was successfully staring at the doctor like he had two heads. Had he just...apologized to him when he was the one that was willing to destroy an entire wall in the ICU just to test if he still had his ability? ...wasn't the best place to cause mass destruction. Plus, he hadn't been thinking. Debris could have hit Last Order. Hell, the ceiling could have collapsed. At that, he berated himself and was successfully manipulated into realizing the faults of his own lack of insights and unthought action.

"Now pay attention. Right now, your electrode is in normal mode. The battery will last approximately 48 hours. I suggest charging it every night while you sleep. Now, in ESPer mode, it will last just 15 minutes, as the innumerous amounts of proxy calculations will drain the battery at a high rate. You best use your head. But that is also why your calculations weren't sufficient enough before. You will have to press th—" he was cut short upon seeing Accelerator instantly switching the electrode into ESPer mode without any hesitation.

He had a terrifying look on his face. Last Order who was dabbing at the flow of blood off his hand glanced up at his smile that was growing crazier by the second as he lapsed at the edge of mania. Despite the display of clearly unhinged murderous intent, he simply flicked the pillow between himself and the brat, watching as the feathers exploded around the room, without a single one touching him. Then, he laughed.

* * *

Cleaning up each individual feather would have normally sucked, but Last Order was making a game out of it, skipping around and collecting each one like it counted for points in a video game. Accelerator looked on, pinching the bridge of his nose and wanting nothing more than a nap. Before then, however, he was being transferred back to his room, 201 on the second floor, and well…

"Like hell I'm sitting in that thing." He looked forlornly at the wheelchair that was all prepared for him and ready by the bedside to take him to his actual room. (The room they were in was actually a recovery room in the ICU and he likely had already overstayed his welcome. The nurses were hovering with huffy expressions). It was a hospital; things had to move. People had to heal. Just… did it have to be so demeaning? He crossed his arms and looked away from it as if it were a disgrace.

"Let's see you walk then." Always twisting the goddamn knife!

"Misaka would prefer if you just listened to the doctor, Misaka murmurs while picking up the last feather. After destroying a pillow and potentially taking down the whole wall, she thinks you should just listen."

"Tch. Fine." He uncrossed his arms, but also felt like she was making this far too easy so he looked over at the brat incredulously.

"And Mistaka will push the wheelchair for you so you don't have to exert yourself, says Misaka as she is so very excited to do something she's never done before. You're so light Misaka is sure to hardly feel it. Speaking of light, you should eat more."

"No way in hell I'm letting you push it. You'll probably crash me into the walls! And did you forget I was just puking out my brains?" He hissed and let the doctor help him into the chair, unhooking him from various pieces of equipment. The blanket went with him. Last Order did not.

As he was unceremoniously carted from the room by an airhead nurse, he spared a glance at the forlorn child dragging her feet behind them. He felt a pang, looked up, cursed, and then tapped the arm rest with his IV-ridden hand. It wasn't below him not to indulge her.

"I need someone to make sure the IV stand doesn't come loose."

She ran up, a bright smile on her face while she grabbed the stand and made sure it held steady against the wheelchair. Regardless of how unnecessary it was, she looked so elated to have been given a job by Accelerator. She followed the tube with her eyes all the way to the inside of his elbow. "Does that hurt?"

"I can barely feel much of anything, brat."

* * *

They arrived at room 201 after it had taken everything from him not to clichely ask 'are we there yet?' It felt like it had taken forever just to cross the hospital, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he was immobilized. Frankly speaking, he likely wouldn't have made it if he had tried to walk. He was already dozing when they finally got there and Last Order noticed his eyes closed.

"Are you sleeping?" She whispered close to his ear. His eyes forcibly opened and he jerked away.

"Tch. No. It's so damn bright in here."

"Why don't we close the shades then?" The nurse who had been pushing him and he had forgotten about replied. He watched as the room significantly got darker and he sighed. Two birds. One stone.

He suddenly struggled to his feet, but found his legs were so shaky he had to grab the nearest thing to keep from falling. What _was_ this? His brain should be able to send the right signals to his limbs to get them to move properly at least? He effortfully trudged to the bed, practically falling on it. "What a pain in the ass."

"I'll let you rest," the nurse smiled and motioned to the girl. "Visiting hours are over."

Accelerator's mouth dropped open and he turned to look at the nurse as if she were a godsend. Visiting hours? He watched Last Order leave with a small wave and a sad smile before ruefully falling asleep.


	4. What If We Start Again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist:   
> Start Again - Red (credit to the lyrics used below)

_Emptiness inside me. Wonder if you see._

_It's my mistake, and it's hurting me._

_I know where we've been._

_How'd we get so far?_

_What if, what if we start again?_

"Visiting hours are stupid! Misaka yells as she rampages like Accelerator." She held her hands up like claws and ran around Yoshikawa's room, bumping into a woman in a tracksuit. She fell over onto her butt with a cute-sounding noise and Yomikawa spun around with a surprised look, immediately bending down to her. She thought she was a patient at first, since she was still wearing scrubs from visiting Accelerator.

"Are you alright?" Her long ponytail cascaded over her shoulder, letting off the faint scent of gunpowder.

"Misaka is just fineee, says Misaka as Misaka is still angry about visiting hours."

"What's this about visiting hours?" Yomikawa exchanged a glance with Yoshikawa who simply shrugged. Last Order eyed the stranger warily, but picked up from their glances that she must know Yoshikawa, which meant she was safe, she hoped. Accelerator had mentioned in their brief time together to not to be so trusting of everyone. She crossed her arms like she had seen him do, and tried to look like someone not to mess with.

"Misaka was kicked out of Accelerator's room because 'visiting hours are over.' That has to be a trick of some kind, since it hasn't happened before, Misaka complains as she tries to look intimidating in front of the stranger."

"Ah! I haven't introduced myself yet," Yomikawa said smoothly with a wide grin. She held out her hand to the little girl with the ahoge. "My name is Yomikawa Aiho and Yoshikawa asked me to watch over you two while you're both in the hospital."

"Yoshikawa is doing that though, Misaka thinks out loud." But she took the hand anyway with a devilish grin that certainly wasn't befitting a 10-year-old. Yomikawa looked nervous immediately and looked back at Yoshikawa for help.

"Why are you mimicking Accelerator?" Yoshikawa was snickering. The girl was more than a little fascinating, but it seemed she was really taking to the white-haired monster that everyone was so terrified of. The liberties she took with Accelerator that Heaven Canceller had told her about would flabbergast anyone else in Academy City. Just the thought was bringing out a rather conniving laugh in her. Maybe it was possible for people to change? And perhaps Yomikawa would be able to create an environment for that change to blossom. Maybe it was possible to really save him and set down roots in this mess the system tried to drown him in...

Yoshikawa's question was blatantly ignored when Last Order turned back to Yomikawa, still holding the woman's calloused hand. "Misaka's name is Last Order, says Misaka to introduce herself properly." She smiled slightly, but still looked dejected from having been kicked out.

"Nice to meet you, erm...should I call you Last Order or Misaka?"

"Last Order," Yoshikawa corrected.

"Misaka is the name of the Original Misaka Mikoto, says Misaka to explain while wondering if it's okay to reveal top secret information like an American agent." She shielded her eyes with her free hand and squinted them to pretend to surveillance the room. "Anyone could be listening, Misaka whispers, but she will tell you about the 10,031 clones that all look like the Original. Misaka is serial number 20,001 and is the control tower of all the clones even though she's smaller. Accelerator saved Misaka's life and got a brain injury and so Misaka connected him to the MISAKA network so he can receive proxy calculations and be able to think, Misaka explains in great detail while suddenly realizing she probably said too much and should have just told you to call her Last Order…" She cupped a hand over her mouth and looked scared when she glanced at Yoshikawa.

"It's okay, Last Order. She's a friend who's with Anti-Skill," Yoshikawa said while sharing a see-why-I-need-help look with Yomikawa who nodded in understanding. Most of the children she dealt with all had things to work on, but this was a different playing field altogether—one that also came with targets painted on their backs. She knew this would be a handful, but it could also be kinda fun. As a woman that always liked a challenge, she rose to it.

"Thank you for explaining, Last Order. I think I understand, and I would love to learn more about you." She let go of her hand and rose back up to her full height. "How about we go get dinner together and let Kik—Yoshikawa rest?"

"Yissss, Misaka cheers in a new way she heard and wonders where we're going!"

* * *

When he woke up, it was dark, but he couldn't figure out why. Accelerator was in room 201, but for some reason was having trouble understanding what that meant. When he tried to lift his head, it felt like his neck weighed more than he could manage. Vaguely, he realized it was strange, so he lifted his IV-adorned arm shakily to his neck without understanding the purpose for it and felt around until he found a button. He pressed it and not even a beep sounded. It was silent. He struggled for a few minutes and managed to push it again. Nothing, but the feel of the mechanical spring. His hand fell back to his side, and he toiled in the broken walls of his mind until he realized he was feeling pain. He did not conclude that it was the pain that had roused him, instead, he simply realized that his head was pounding and his stomach was churning again. He couldn't figure out how much time had passed or why he felt this way, but he ended up rolling off the bed with a loud cladder. The IV stand fell over.

His mobility was even worse than before, but that was not something he could realize. He was just making due with the devices he had, which were screaming at him. He gagged a few times, and found himself back in a trashcan, wondering why. He didn't have the capacity to realize that because he was throwing up, he should do it in a trashcan. He was simply doing it out of habit. His brain was following neural pathways that were already laid out for him. He was acting on instinct.

Since he was not connected to any wires, save for the IV, following his transfer (not that he recognized this), he was not constrained to the bed, and ended up gagging in the far corner for quite a bit of time until he started to violently shake again. All he knew was suffering in those solitary moments alone with no way of knowing how to stop it. Clutching his head and gripping the plastic can, he dry heaved until he passed out on the floor until morning.

* * *

"You were supposed to check on him during the night shift," the head nurse reprimanded her new hire passionately. "It is our duty to watch over our patients…" Heaven Canceller was standing right there, otherwise she may have been a little more vicious. As a nurse, it was very important to do their job thoroughly; they were the frontlines and the patients were dependant on them. What happened was an embarrassment and it could have turned out far worse.

Heaven Canceller didn't say anything one way or another; he was too busy spending his morning again with Accelerator: his problem patient. From what it looked like, his electrode must have still been on ESPer mode when he was transferred and dozed off. No one had noticed. That was their first mistake, and the #1 was certainly not accustomed to relying on a battery-powered device, so it, perhaps, wouldn't have occurred to him. They had a lot to learn before being able to fully handle this injury, both of them.

He finished reconnecting the IV line and replacing the bag, frowning at how dehydrated he was. He also (against the boy's previous wishes), connected him to a morphine drip. It would keep him subdued even if he did wake up while his battery was charging. He popped the small battery out and snapped it into the nearby charger, watching the red light blink for a moment. He really had his hands full. An injury to the strongest ESPer in Academy City was a challenge to say the least. The mere fact that, even with the brain damage, he had somehow managed to end up on the floor again was proof enough that his vitality was incredible. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his surgery. For someone that could not make sense of his own thoughts or draw substantial conclusions to still operate was a medical miracle. In rehabbing him, there was much to be gained; he presumed, maybe even a 50% recovery in ESPer mode.

The door to room 201 flung open. It was 7AM. She hadn't brushed her hair, but here she was! Last Order flew to the bedside where Accelerator now laid, looking comatose. He appeared so innocent when he slept usually, but right now, she could tell something was wrong. She looked up at Dr. Gekota with glassy eyes and a hint of worry and immediately grabbed his pinky and the next finger over to hold tight.

"Did something happen, Misaka asks while noticing he looks so still and pale?"

"Rrmm…" Heaven Canceller was debating on telling her what really happened, but ultimately decided sheltering her wouldn't work out one way or another. "He had another episode last night…" It was just hard to explain simply. "The electrode battery died."

She glanced at the broken IV stand that was still on the floor and then at the new one that was standing and crossed her arms, looking as menacing as a little girl could.

"That's because Misaka wasn't here to make sure the IV stand didn't fall over, Misaka proclaims loudly while still angry about 'visiting hours'."

Dr. Gekota was quiet for a moment, studying the machines and hooking up a few more wires for monitoring. He was also contemplating her words, recalling that she did do a good job of looking after him and keeping him under wraps. The flipside was that poor Accelerator didn't get as must rest when she was around. Not necessarily because of her nagging (though that could also be a factor), but mainly because he didn't seem readily invested in showing outward weakness in front of...well, anyone. His sighed and let the wires hang lax, turning back to her with a smile.

"He needed his rest, but perhaps we should do away with that rule for you for the time being… Usually after surgery, the visiting hours are much more strict. You were asleep yourself most of the time when he first arrived, so that is why you don't know about it. Why don't you watch over him for me until his battery charges?"

* * *

_Beep beep beep_!

The battery was finally fully charged and Accelerator was staring off into space, unable to surmise perhaps the fact that the beeping meant it was done charging. Maybe he was not even aware it was charging. It was hard to tell, but one thing was for certain: he'd get better at it. As if one could get better at being a cripple? Strangely enough though, aphasia was something that one could adapt to—well, maybe not all humans, but the #1 level five ESPer of Academy City certainly would be able to regain some devices (especially in trying circumstances). All in due time. For now, he was trying to count the ceiling tiles, but didn't get past that concept...because he couldn't count.

At the sound of movement, a crimson eye flitted to the side and collected that Last Order was doing something. The dots connected that it had something to do with the beeping and she was working on something with a serious look on her face. It involved him because all of a sudden, she was climbing onto the bed. Unable to really do much about it, a feeling of dread came over him for an instant, but he didn't know why. Was it an automatic reaction?

She touched him. He felt icy, little finger tips fumbling with something around his neck. He blinked foggy eyes at her and was trying to decide if it was a good thing or bad thing, but really couldn't arrive at either. All in all, it was very frustrating. She got a rise out of him when he wrinkled his nose in a snarl, but nothing more.

The battery popped in finally after playing tetris with a simple rectangle. She didn't understand why it was so hard to connect it in, but she supposed it was because she was being so, _so_ gentle. She was afraid of 1.) Breaking it 2.) Hurting him 3.) Failing at her job. She was very proud when none of the above happened even with the doctor off tending to other patients. Last Order carefully switched on the electrode with the push of a button and continued watching her tenant's expression, waiting to see when realization crossed his face.

It did. Vicariously. He curled his arms around his head for a second and just breathed, letting his brain catch up and wash away all the confusion there. After a while, he then lifted his eyes to focus dully on his caretaker...who looked like a miniature staff in scrubs. He hadn't noticed what she was wearing before now.

"You should really consider this line of work," he growled with a sly, wolfish look on his face. No one else was in the room. "You'd make a good nurse."

"Puh!?" It was a one-hit-KO. Last Order released a puff of steam, her face turning entirely red. She was about to react, but her words were sizzled away with the girlish blush that reached her ears.

Accelerator used this distraction to yank out the IV from the port in his arm, shakily rise to his feet, and tumble right into the wall where a railing stopped his descent. His plan didn't work 100%, but it stopped the continuous feed of morphine that completely numbed him. He recalled clearly the clarity he had when he was able to activate his ability, and all he wanted was to get back to that.

"Waaaa!" Last Order made another sound that did not formulate words. And saw the red-eyed smirk of Accelerator, Academy City's #1 as he went to press the ESPer activation button on his choker. The window was right there. If he could just— _zzzt!_

His knees entirely buckled and a small yet strong hand was gripping his wrist. He looked over at her with wry eyes and a clearly defined frown. She was… Yep. She was electrocuting him. She was sending level three electricity into his hand so he couldn't press the damn button. In fact, his whole body felt... _jolty_. He sighed in resignation. How many more times was he going to lose to this one?

"Misaka _would_ make a good nurse because she can catch you before you escape when you should be resting, Misaka reprimands you as she cautiously withdraws her electricity."

"Argghhjust let go of me you damned brat! Fine I won't escape."

"You're not going to go anywhere?"

"..."

"Hmmm?"

"No. I'm not going to go anywhere you shitty brat."

She let go and he hung his head with a sigh, massaging his temples with a defeated look. She bent down to him and he let himself fall the rest of the way to sit on the floor with his knees up. His chin rested there and he glared at the damned brat from his perch. He just really wanted to see what his limitations were, but it seemed that she was setting them for him, which involved no ESPer mode. Doctor's (or nurse's?) orders.

"Are you okay?" She said after a while, getting closer and studying him.

"Of course I am." He grit his teeth. "Who do you think I am?" There was a pause as she smiled and leaned up against his leg on the floor (where it seemed he found himself all too often now). "Guess I need to charge that damn battery every chance I get…" And there went his chance at his 15 minutes of rehability.

"Don't worry! Misaka will remind you to!"

Hah, as if he would need reminding if his damn brain didn't operate without it. However, he kept the thought to himself so as to avoid making her cry (it would be more annoying), and instead, voiced another from his place against the wall.

"Ugh I need a shower."

* * *

The one thing he hated about public baths (despite this one not exactly being 'open to the public') was the horrid echo of any kind of noise. This included the brat's. Her voice in particular currently had a shrill that felt like it was piercing his very bones. Anytime something dropped? Grenade. It definitely sounded like some form of explosion (he would know) because it made his ears ring and his eyes water just like one. This, of course, he knew was not normal. The normal echo among the tiles and water in a public bath was a normal annoying—this was something else entirely. It was completely a derivative of an agitated, sleep-deprived, painkiller-free teenager with aphasia who hadn't showered in...a week. The effects were vivid.

While he was tuning out the throbbing onslaught of pain signalling from his forehead, he tried to enjoy the warm shower water rivering down his back. He shut his eyes and started casually scrubbing, making sure his towel didn't slip. No need to give Last Order more nightmares than she probably already had by his hand.

The girl was also wrapped in a towel, running the bath water and dropping shampoo and various other supplies she poached from somewhere. Accelerator had his heart set on using them, but was too enraptured by the feeling of hot water that he was beginning to wonder if there really was something else wrong with his brain. Last Order stuck her hand in the tub, turning the dial so it would plug up and let it fill. Her attention was about to turn to him so he opened one eye.

"Oi brat, throw me the soap?" He held a hand out backwards and felt when the soap was carefully placed there. "Tch. Nice throw." His voice was laced with sarcasm and he began lathering himself with his back turned and without stopping the hot water in the slightest. For tonight, all the hot water was theirs. No one would complain right? He gripped the squeegee tight in his hand and raised his eyes up to the ceiling. It was the best—

Water splashed him in the face and the sudden feeling of his head being wet was so shocking he nearly fell over. Instead, he spun around, witnessing the perpetrator with a small, dripping bucket. _The bathtub._

"How was that throw, Misaka asks sweetly while standing red-handed?" She giggled and twirled...right into an entire showerhead of cold water aimed at her head. "WAAAAA!"

Instant regret.

He had pre-covered his ears with his hands, but that hardly did anything to protect his eardrums from nearly shattering, and yet? He was grinning sadistically—the closest thing Accelerator had come to a genuine smile since he had first regained consciousness. Last Order had launched herself into the bathtub to avoid the fray, struggling to keep the towel around herself and revealing some leg here, some belly there…

At that point, Accelerator had glanced away and continued with trying to squeeze some shampoo onto his head to wash his hair. He was dreading the worst case scenario, which would be if some of the suds got under the waterproof bandage. He couldn't imagine. His raw knuckles themselves felt like someone dumped battery acid on them, he couldn't imagine what soap in a gunshot wound would feel like, and he wasn't about to find out.

Scrubbing his hair methodically, he carefully avoided the majority of his forehead where the adhesive for the bandage was. He had to twist in an odd way under the water to try and—

_SPLASH_

An entire bucketful of ice cold water drenched his entire person. What? Had she been filling it up this entire time!? He wasn't able to shut his eyes in time.

"S-ssshit," he hissed, rubbing at his eyes where shampoo had gleefully entered to give him a world of suffering. He held an eye open under the freshwater, but it did nothing but make it worse. His eyes began watering profusely and he winged around to tearfully glare at the 10-year-old. "You damned brat you got shampoo in my eyes!"

"Waa~"

He blindly flailed, holding his towel up with his teeth until he was able to find her and latch onto her for payback. She kept running away. As soon as he grabbed her, his right leg gave out on the soapy floor and he slipped right into the bath with an enormous splash. His towel floated up. He facepalmed.

"Why the hell are you in here anyway…"

"Misaka is here to make sure you don't pass out, Misaka says with glee while she glances downward even though she shouldn't."

"Get over here you damn piece of work!"

_Splash!_

He rubbed the tears out of his eyes and squinted at the little girl now sitting directly across from him in the hot water. She made a relaxed face and leaned back.

"Aaa~ Misaka says as she relaxes and is so happy you invited her in with you. Misaka's never been in a public bathhouse and is super excited to be able to share her first experience with you."

Accelerator groaned, praying upon prayer that no one was outside the door listening to this dialogue. He leaned back himself and put a hand on his forehead, sighing. He was screwed either way. And it wasn't a damned public bathhouse.

"What's a matter?" Misaka scooched closer and scanned his face. "Does it hurt?"

He jerked further away with wide eyes, still not getting used to someone caring in any way, shape, or form. "Yeah." He paused, about to leave it at that, but he really was at his limit. "Let's head back?" (Not that he was looking forward to another magical wheelchair ride with Last Order or anything. She desperately needed to practice her steering).

* * *

It was evening by now. His hair was still wet. Accelerator was wearing a new pair of jeans (since his were still covered with blood from his head injury and were probably long thrown out). He was struggling with putting on the new long-sleeved shirt he received and his current status was trying to get it over his head without touching the bandage, electrode, or any of its protruding wires, but it was caught on something and he was twisting his arm to try and free himself when Last Order barged in without knocking, already dressed in not-scrubs. Whatever it was she was wearing now, he couldn't care less.

"Ohoh let Misaka help you!" She didn't bother holding back.

"Aa?" He growled from his pathetically tangled position. This would never happen. This was happening… She climbed behind him and popped it over his head to reveal...a very vicious glare behind wet, white hair. Normally, the glare itself would have torn apart even an adult's mental stamina, but Last Order? Passed right by her, unphased.

"Misaka loves your new look, Misaka says as she tries to complement you to make you feel better."

He lifted himself off the bed and listed to the left side, ignoring the terrible pangs reberating in his head. The pain was getting worse over the course of a few hours without the morphine drip or anything of the sort. He'd consider asking for something if it continued or got worse, but after getting splashed in the face countless times, being half-drowned, and his eyes being attacked with shampoo, it was all he could do…

A soft knock sounded, paused, and then the door opened and in walked Heaven Canceller who immediately began scrutinizing his patient whose hair was blatantly wet.

"You're going to catch a cold like that." Now that the doctor had mentioned it, he was shivering slightly and couldn't shake the onset of frost over his entire body. It was a huge difference compared to the soothing feeling of sitting in the tub with [EXPUNGED]. "Let me take the bandage off so we can properly dry you."

"..." A brief look of alarm crossed his face, but the doctor caught it and looked inquiringly at him. It was then the doctor noticed that the morphine drip that had been removed earlier was not nearly as empty as it should be, nor the IV itself. A sigh.

"Were you at least drinking water?"

Last Order burst out laughing and nearly fell on the bed. "Misaka thinks he drank lots and lots of water, Misaka gets out in between laughs!"

"Tch." He massaged his temples and leaned back with the pillows propped against the wall, completely and utterly too spent to give a retort back. Instead, he kicked at her enough with his foot to get her to nearly fall off the bed.

"Okay, okay you two," Heaven Canceller's mediating voice sounded. He leaned over Accelerator and flipped up the boy's bangs and clipped them out of the way, slowly pulling off the waterproof bandage and tossing it into the nearby bin. He went to retrieve something else and briefly left the room. Accelerator was frozen.

Last Order silently approached and stared wide-eyed at the large, gnarly gash of stitches holding his head together. The skin was white around them and they were oozing. Before now, she knew he had been hurt, but the extent... she hadn't seen it until now.

"What?" Accelerator spat, narrowing his eyes at her. He couldn't see it himself and she was looking at him like he had grown a third eye. Had she never seen an injury in real life before? Well, he guessed she hadn't. Was she just about to mock him—tell him he deserved it for what he had done? His eyes refocused and he noticed that she was nearly crying. Aw god, again?! He frowned with a blistering look. "Don't cry, brat. Just get out of here."

"Mm~nn." She shook her head and started drying his hair with the towel from behind. His lips sealed shut and he closed his eyes. Just the air hitting it hurt. He was never going to win, was he?

Frog-face returned with supplies and set them on the bed, looking him over and swatting Last Order away. He took a moment to stare levelly at Accelerator's condition while unraveling a new set of bandages. It seemed he had decided something in that moment, but he was gravely wrong. He lifted up a bottle and sprayed something over the stitches without warning. The white-haired ESPer almost gagged and passed out right then and there. He must have at least gasped because no other motion followed, instead hands caught him from falling sideways. Black was dancing at the sides of his vision and he was about to fall.

"Ah, too much?" The doctor grimaced and reached for something else he had brought with him. Before any protests happened, he injected the boy in the side of the neck. Instantly, Accelerator felt the drug rush through, numbing the pathways all the way up to his skull. A few minutes more passed and he momentarily opened his eyes.

"You bastard…" He growled. Accelerator felt toyed with, but knew what kind of lecture was coming next.

"If you subject your body to too much pain, you will slow the healing process and put yourself under too much stress. It's good you spent some time with Last Order, but you need to make sure you are regulating your pain. How will we start rehab otherwise?"

Through cracked, glowering red eyes, a distinct shine radiated through as indication enough that the message had hit its target. Dead center. Last Order was sitting next to him, touching his arm. He wanted to pull away, but honestly didn't even want to move. He limply sat there, prone while the doctor numbly rewrapped his forehead. He couldn't even tell how tight it was… He couldn't even tell when his consciousness waned or when he drooped onto Last Order's lap, but he was out.

The doctor silently pulled up the covers and extra blanket over Accelerator, plugged the IV and morphine drip back into the port on his arm, and gathered up his supplies to leave. The pain that accompanied an injury as serious as being shot in the head was not something to compromise over. If his tolerance was that low after just a few hours, he wasn't ready to come off it completely just yet.

Last Order wrapped her arms around her savior's injured head and shut her eyes with a small sigh. She stayed like that, protecting him from the world, until her legs were numb up to her hips and Yomikawa was calling her for dinner.


	5. Something Just Like This

_I've been reading books of old_

_The legends and the myths_

_The testaments they told_

_The moon, and its eclipse_

_And Superman unrolls_

_A suit before he lifts_

_But I'm not the kind of person that it fits_

"Ka. Tsu. Donnn~~" Last Order was still cheer-singing from the night spent with Yomikawa, eating delicious, scrumptious, and delectable foods that filled her belly and her spirits. Doctor Gekota told her Accelerator's body was being nourished through the IV, but she didn't believe him because it didn't touch his tongue. True nourishment came from gorging oneself. It was just a fact and the will of nature. According to the MISAKA network. And, well, she had no doubt of it. She was sure Yomikawa would agree with her too.

The older lady had also taken her...wait for it...SHOPPING! She left the hospital last night and not only got to eat katsudoooonnn with rice and breaded pork and egg and deliciousss sauce, but they also had visited the mall! The mall was now her favorite place. It had a Gekota store. It also had LOTS of other stores with pretty things. In fact, the pajamas she was wearing now Yomikawa had bought for her and she loved them so much and would now wear them all day. It was a hospital so there were no rules and most people were wearing pajama-y clothes anyway so it was fine. Hmph.

She felt bad though because Accelerator was sleeping. He didn't even get dinner let alone get to go shopping with them. She was sure he would have at least been interested to see the bookstore. Or maybe he had seen it before—she didn't know. All she knew was that she had felt bad and begged Yomikawa to be able to bring him back a...souvenir from her exploits. An adventure was an adventure even if it was a trip to the mall.

In the Gekota store (her favorite store), she was trying to find something he'd like. She wasn't sure if he liked Gekota too, but… She had found some parchment and next to it was a diary, which was a perfect idea for someone who was bored all day in the hospital! Maybe it would keep him occupied and less likely to try out ESPer mode and jump out a window. She shuddered at the memory and was really wishing he hadn't vanished overnight when she wasn't there to keep an eye on him. She felt, somehow, that he could just vanish at any time—like he was going to leave the second she turned her back. It made her feel like she had to be annoying to keep him company, protect him from himself, and, well, make him realize that he had someone here for him… Had he not had that before? She was sure of it.

She held the diary now. And a coloring book. And a box of crayons. And a super masculine and manly Gekota pen that was BLUE. She got it all for him, except the coloring box and crayons (those were for her). She has also wrote him a little note to remind him to write his thoughts in the diary every day. One of the Misakas had the idea for it, having had read in a magazine that it would help someone who had been through something major. Maybe it would help?

"Tsu don. Tsuu donn~" She eventually reached room 201, which really was pretty close to the room she was given (but hardly used). A lot of the time, she just slept with him in the bed or in a chair. One time even on the floor with him. No one had ever said anything so she guessed it was okay. Accelerator didn't even complain, but maybe it was because he still wasn't feeling up to it. He was probably analyzing when and where to delegate his energy to conserve it for their next water battle. Yes, yes, that definitely was it.

She flung open the door and he was exactly as she had left him. She hid her sigh of relief even if no one was watching and quietly stepped closer and covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing aloud at what else she saw.

The clip was still in his hair.

She put the books and utensils on the table and reached out with her short arms to grab the clip carefully. She had an ear on his even breaths to see if she roused him, but they continued unabated. She put the clip in her hair over the ahoge, thought better of it, and just threw it on the table. It was a plain clip. Not cute at all. Accelerator would've looked cuter if it had been a bow clip, but...it was just a plain metal one. Puh.

His hair continued to flip up in that weird manner where it had dried wet. She stared at it and tried to smooth it down with her hand, but it flipped back up like a bangs version of her ahoge. It even fanned out in a weird way like he was some rockstar and had styled it up to be cool. She snickered inaudibly and licked her hand to try again.

"Just what do you think you're doing, brat?"

She was met, or rather, tormented by a set of crimson eyes that looked dangerously tired in a I-just-woke-up-and-have-no-filter way. She twitched and let go of his hair instantly with a sweaty smile.

"Misaka was just fixing your hair, Misaka explains as she had noticed the hair clip from last night made your hair dry in a weird way and it's sticking up…" She put her head in her hand, really wishing she hadn't said that last part.

"Ehh?" He felt around and touched the air above his head, feeling the tips of hair sticking up. "Dammit."

He wasn't angry at her? Last Order peeked through her hands and approached him with wide eyes. Now was her chance!

"Misaka got you a present, Misaka celebrates excitedly as she can't wait to give it to you."

"Ugh. You're so hard to follow. You what—a present?" He blinked wildly, lifted a palm to his head and looked at her sideways as if it would help him comprehend whatever nonsense the brat was spewing out now. Something about a present? He was the only high one here (much to his objection), so he must have heard her wrong or something. He touched the choker and it felt like it was still switched on. _Shit_ he didn't charge it last night. Wait, when had he fallen asleep? After the shower… He barely remembered—the memory was so faint. So what was this about a…

Something was placed into his free hand. He let his other fall down from his choker and he opened what looked like a book, but it was blank inside. The hell, how was he going to read this if it was blank? And it had little damn frogs all over it that looked exactly like the damn doctor's face. He exhaled and looked up at the beaming face of the girl. He closed his mouth and inwardly cursed. What, was he supposed to thank her now? A memo fell out of the pages he was pretending to flip through and he scanned the surprisingly neat, girly handwriting.

She wanted him to write in a diary.

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that face... no!? When she was looking at him like that. Well, he supposed he could use it to keep track of complex formulas he wanted to remember when he wasn't in ESPer mode or…

"Misaka sees you saw her note! If you write in it every day it will help you. Misaka thinks you should write your thoughts down."

"...my thoughts?"

"Yes! Misaka learned that it 'can create order when your world feels like it's in chaos', Misaka successfully relays."

"Chaos, huh?" He ran a hand through his tousled hair to try and wrangle it. "Is that what you think?" A wry smirk filled his face. He'd write in the damn book—he'd write in it so hard that if anyone were to read it, they'd go insane from it. The frogs were just a cover for the darkness it would protrude.

His expression was so dark and his smile so broken that Last Order for a second was taken aback, but she didn't let it waver her own soft smile. She saw there within his something deeper, but knew he hadn't discovered it yet in himself. He was forced to play a role that didn't suit him—to be a character that was consumed in a darkness that was fed to him. He must have been taught only how to fit into a script and never how to be it himself. That was what that look was telling her. It was a mask nailed over something else beneath, and it was a smile that was in pain.

"Misaka doesn't know, but she hopes you will write in it and go get Katsudon with her someday." She pressed her two pointer fingers together.

"Now that you mention it… Hey." She looked at him. "Does this cursed place have any black coffee no sugar in those black cans that are in those vending machines?" Descriptive. He mentally kicked himself.

To Last Order, it didn't really make a lot of sense, but she was sure she could consult for help. "Misaka will find it for you!"

He tossed her his bank card from the side table and added an afterthought. "Get yourself something too."

"Really? Misaka is overjoyed that you would think of her too!" She glowed and just barely caught the card, fumbling a few times until she grasped it tightly. She knew deep down inside this was his secretive tsundere way of thanking her. She was going to get some Qoo apple juice to go with her breakfast! She would also tell Dr. Gekota he was awake and see if he could force him to actually eat instead through the IV. Off she flew.

The door shut loudly behind her. Accelerator sighed and pinched his nose, falling back onto the pillows and shutting his eyes. That would at least buy him another 20 minutes…

Just as he was dozing, however, the door opened again within 10 and in walked said doctor with an incredulous look on his face. Behind him, was a nurse with a plate of steaming food. Accelerator had woken immediately at the sound of the door opening and rose to sit up, not used to hearing anything while he was sleeping. As he was recovering, he felt sounds more and more audibly, especially when he was trying to sleep. Under normal circumstances, he would have blocked out all the sounds. If only there was a way to plug the battery into the wall and still keep ESPer mode on so he could redirect the vectors… He had already inspected the charger and, unfortunately, it required the battery to be physically popped into the dock. He would never sleep again…

"Good morning, Accelerator. I see you are up at a normal time now. How are you feeling?"

"Never better," he muttered under his breath while scrutinizing the food that surprisingly looked consumable. When was the coffee getting here…

"Good to hear! Last Order tells me you might like some breakfast so we brought you in some." He wasn't sure of the ESPer's eating habits, but he was hoping the boy wouldn't wolf it down and make himself sick (little did he know, he had nothing to worry about in the slightest).

"Hn." Accelerator half-responded and watched the nurse place it next to him. He stabbed an egg and ate some of it, chewing methodically. Then, some of the sausages too, and picked at the hashbrowns, but, ultimately, it looked like a bird had pecked at some food and then called it a day. This was how Accelerator ate.

The doctor was looking at some of his notes and the specs on the machines. When he was done, he walked over to the #1 with a kind and knowing smile before beginning to unravel the bandages he had only just wrapped last night. They were already slightly stained from the oozing of the stitches. As he worked, he spoke.

"It's looking promising. I think I will start you on rehab today so we can work out all that pent up energy you seem to have and test the limitations of the electrode. What do you think?" He carefully and expertly began replacing the bandages.

"..."

When the doctor finished up, he stepped back to admire his work. It seemed Accelerator was much better today and was even eating, albeit small portions. It possibly had something to do with the dosage he was being given, but he doubted it. Seemed it may be just a nasty habit or a survival mechanism. He'd bet the #1 had quite a few more unhealthy ones at that. He waited for a response, but when none came, he looked up just in time to see Accelerator pressing a hand flat against the new bandages.

"Woahwoahwoah you really shouldn't be applying any pressure to it. Remember you have a gaping hole in your head and it's being held thinly together by those stitches."

"I don't feel anything," the white-haired ESPer spat in defense, but stopped touching. "Hey, have a mirror around here anywhere?"

"The only one is in the bathroom out in the hall. I can take you there."

"Tch. Forget it." He wanted to fix his hair, but it wasn't worth demeaning himself in that contraption.

The door opened just then and Last Order jumped through it like a circus animal, holding up two black coffees in each hand like they were trophies. "Dunnduhdunn! Misaka found them on the 1st floor, Misaka reports from Misaka #10032's findings."

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Misaka got your coffee for you as requested, Misaka says as she presents your coffee to you."

"Wait just a minute here. Coffee will decrease your cerebral blood flow and induce a relative brain hypoperfusion. It really isn't a good idea."

"It's for my rehab." Accelerator lifted up a hand in front of him and clenched his fist around one of the coffees, taking it from Last Order before it could be thieved away with the rest of his dignity.

The doctor sighed, clearly defeated. He really didn't want his patient drinking coffee, but if it would get him to agree to starting rehab, then… it was a bargaining chip...and a gamble that would likely benefit him more than it would hurt him, he guessed.

"Just let me know immediately if anything changes."

* * *

"Last Order, are you ready?" Two empty coffee cans sat beside the bed. Accelerator was in the damn wheelchair, his eyes gleaming strangely with excitement. The little girl bounded around to the backside. If this were to be how he went out… then so be it. "It's time for you to learn how to drive." (Not that he knew how or anything or even been involved with a wheelchair at all before now, but he was going to teach her none-the-less for his own benefit).

"Yes sir! Misaka booms in a proud voice and salutes at the ready."

"No, hold it like this." He reached behind him and grabbed her one hand, slapping it over the handle and the other over the other handle. He sighed. That was basic. How on earth had she been steering it before when they went to the shower? He really didn't want to know. It'd give him nightmares. "Your damn hands are so small—how are you going to steer."

"Don't make fun of Misaka's hands!" She guffawed, but didn't let go of her tight grip just as she had been shown. Slowly, she threw her weight into the chair and began walking. "Misaka thinks you must have gained a few pounds…"

"Tch. Shut up."

And thus, they made it to the hallway, in which he solemnly hoped the brat knew which way to get to the rehab place or whatever because he sure as hell hadn't done much exploring. He might have overheard it was a few floors up or something or other. He glanced behind him, hoping to see that she was confident, but instead, frowned.

"Brat, keep your eyes on the people not the ground. What are you looking at?"

"Huh?" She looked up at him as he twisted around and let go for a second. She had been watching her feet to make sure she wasn't going to step on the really big wheels, but...she hadn't been paying attention to where they actually were going and they had somewhere to be at 1:00! It was an important appointment—what would be his first rehab appointment. It was sooo super important.

"I said BOTH hands."

"Ah!" She grabbed with her other hand and looked around to get her bearings, turning in another direction suddenly around a corner.

"Watch out for—" They almost collided with a nurse who dropped a few papers, apologized profusely (even if it wasn't her fault), and scrambled to pick them up.

"Misaka is SO sorry! This is her first time with driving lessons and is too focused on all the things that she didn't notice you."

When the nurse was gone: "Fuck, that was close. Are you trying to put me into an early grave?"

Last Order laughed nervously and put all her mental energy into taking his advice and driving correctly. To her joy (and much to Accelerator's), the rest of the ride was smooth and easy-going until they hit the elevator.

And. 3

Stopped. 4

On. 5

Every. 6

Floor. 7

She had pressed all the buttons because once they started lighting up, it was sorta irresistible. Accelerator actually didn't say anything or complain even if it was written all over his face; he just looked nervous and the jostling of the wheelchair and the elevator, and the coffee was making him feel a little motion sick.

When they finally exited (when he was wheeled out rather), they passed through a couple sets of doors before finding the doctor who waved them through. It was like a gymnasium, but HUGE, impact absorbent, and soundproof. There was still no way could contain the #1 level five ESPer's abilities. Last Order blanched, but continued walking. Remember, he was still weak and recovering so maybe the ceiling wouldn't collapse and take the whole building down… Maybe just a couple cracks—some thousands of dollars worth of damage—you know…

"What the hell is this? This is no rehab center. It looks like a fucking lab. I'm not going to—"

"It's a special rehabilitation area for ESPers so they can use their abilities and get up their strength," the doctor cut him off before he could start refusing again. He best remember the fact that he had already been pre-rewarded with coffee. "Besides, this will be more to your liking and will actually challenge you. This is something you've wanted, haven't you—to test your limits?"

There was a pause.

"Hm, I might actually enjoy this."

Both Last Order and the doctor looked at Accelerator with relief at the sudden change of sides. He was likely eager to see how far he could go, regardless of the fact that the atmosphere was eliciting negative memories.

"Good because you're going to be pushed! Now then, we'll be taking our leave. Come along, Last Order."

"Wh-wha?" Accelerator wheeled around (literally), struggling with the chair to see as the child and doctor were ditching him there.

"Well, get up and walk in there. The bots will do everything else for you." He scanned his keycard to open the door and let Last Order back through. "Oh, and I almost forgot. I left a crutch there to help you with your right side. It seems you're favoring your left. It might be harder for you to recover mobility there in normal mode. See you in 15 minutes. We'll wheel you back so no worries if you end up collapsing. Don't do too much, and don't do more than what you're asked."

The fuck how was he supposed to just 'get up and walk in there'!? With a crutch no less? He never even touched one let alone tried to use it. And he only had 15 minutes of ESPer mode so he wasn't going to waste any of that time getting _into_ the damn facility. He shakily rose, glad the painkillers were wearing off and he could actually feel his effing legs. He reached out an arm to his right without looking and grabbed at the crutch leaning against the wall, eyes trained forward. He had to situate it in his right hand, straightening his arm to lean his weight into it. The thing nearly slipped. He righted himself, fixed his balance, and tried again. It was going to take him 20 minutes to 'walk' down there…

He eventually got the hang of it and made it inside with metallic taps instead of footsteps. Immediately, a broadcast bot with a camera and a speaker buzzed overhead. He figured this was where his directions were going to come from.

"INITIATING SEQUENCE…"

Accelerator unhesitatingly pressed the button on his choker and a whole wave of calculations shifted into his mind like soft rays of sunlight. His massive intellect and calculating prowess returned sharply, the surge of power laced with unbound knowledge. His red eyes crackled with ethereal light and his face split horizontally into a callous crescent. Despite the malice dripping off of him, his focus hadn't shifted to piece through the calculations he was being gifted with or to build back up his reflection; it was lingering on the environment around him that felt all too familiar. _This is like that fucking lab._

He froze.

"Sending signaled fire for patient to avoid. Please be cautious and avoid getting burned. 5 seconds...4…" Memories danced in his subconscious, unearthing something buried far. His expression changed to that of bewilderment. "...3...:" His started to hurt. Barrels emerged from the sides of the walls. "...2…" He threw away the crutch with a loud and jarring cladder, manipulating the vectors to control his forced run. "...1…" Flames shot out of the barrels behind him, heat lathering at his back and singeing his shirt slightly. The feeling of the heat brought his focus to it, seeing the calculations there that were needed to seize control of it, but they weren't his own…

"What kind of fucked up rehab is thissss!?" He stumbled into the opposing wall just as the barrels clicked, spun, and began to send out a fresh wave of flames. He was cornered? Was there not even a safe word?! He barely had a few milliseconds, but time stretched out before him as, slowly, his subconscious redirection and ultimate defense grew before him like the flexing of an unused muscle. His skin remained untouched as the fire lost its ability in threatening to burn him. Eventually, the flamethrowers spun and clicked again, retreating back into the walls. He was left standing there alone in the smoldering remnants with a sideways grin, the heat billowing out his white hair back to its natural state. The retreating firelight danced in the crimson of his eyes. Nothing would be able to touch him now.

He had also made a discovery. Even in ESPer mode, he had to manipulate the kinetic vectors more distinctly on his right side. Hah, it must be lamer now than his left. He raised a hand and hovered it over his head, reading the inside function of his brain, seeing firsthand the extent of the damage there in ones and in zeros. Ah, well, he was a cripple now. That much was certain. Without ESPer mode on...he wasn't even sure how much he'd be able to recov—

"INITIATING SEQUENCE…"

He felt like something was caught in his throat and he bared his teeth in response. What was this system going to just make him run around the room until he ran out of time? Weren't they just trying to build up his stamina? Or was this something else? It felt like—

"Sending spikes for patient to carefully avoid. High risk of damage. 5 seconds...4…" The countdown began again, sending chills running rapidly up and down his spine. Wasn't this a little much?! Shouldn't there be some kind of bar he could hold onto with a kind, older nurse telling him where to put his foot or some shit? Wasn't that how this usually worked?! He sneered.

Giant spikes much larger than he had initially imagined shot out from all sides of the room. It seemed like it was in slow motion. His perception widened and slowed the movements of everything around him, including his own heart. There was only one place to go and that was up. Otherwise, his reflection would end up destroying the entire room and bring down the hospital around him.

He tapped the ground lightly with his left foot and shot upward so hard he had to stick out a hand to push off the ceiling or otherwise he'd end up destroying that too. There were no cracks from his touch. It made him laugh. Then, he flicked one of the release barrels with a lazy finger, watching it explode with much greater force. He laughed louder, maniacally, swaying on the edge of letting his power erupt to just take it all down and end this. He _wanted_ to.

"INITIATING SEQUENCE…"

He landed and caused no crater; the room was much more sturdy than any other surface he was used to landing on. It also had recoil so he had to control the vectors surging up from the floor as well so it wouldn't thrust back into him and rip apart his calf muscles.

"Sending gunfire for patient to avoid. 5 seconds…" Ah, he wasn't going to bother running away this time. Plus, tiny bullets weren't going to end up destroying the walls. Redirection would take care of it plenty. All the aimed barrels were sucked back into the wall.

"Haah?"

A human-sized bot came out of the wall instead, rolling in on a singular wheel and holding out a gun with a mechanical arm. Accelerator's pupils shrunk into a sea of red at the sight and he gaped as the robot aimed the pistol right at his head. As if he were a deer in headlights, he did not move at the off chance that the detected movement would activate the firing mechanism. It did not; a program had. The bot pulled the trigger and the sound of a gunshot rang out, echoing in the silence of his own mind. The bullet's vector was reflected back automatically, but Accelerator found he could not breathe—as if the very oxygen was also being redirected outside of his AIM diffusion field.

Instead of reality, he was seeing something else entirely—cracked images of a clone with chestnut hair and hazel eyes, pointing that gun at him, puzzled by the change in trajectory of the bullets as she fired consecutively. A similar thing was happening now—the bot's gunfire being thwarted in the same way, ricocheting off the walls. He had been disappointed by her weakness… and hadn't even tried when he smacked the back of his fist lightly against her frame, shattering the bones in her body and throwing her away like garbage. Outside of his mind's eye, the bot ruptured into pieces from this same attack, sparks floating uselessly around him. Another bullet was shakily fired and was also redirected back, filling the clone's side with a searing lead bullet. The blood pooled as it leaked out of her… slight signs of surprise were showing on his expressionless and devoid face as reflection slowly killed her with his own inaction. It was a monster's face. " _Dispose of...cease operations… synthesized masses of drugs and protein…"_ That's right, he was supposed to have killed Last Order just like this too...

The clone's life had been stripped out of her, thickly gathering on the tiled floor that was looking so similar now. He fixated on it as if the blood were right there—as if it were tangible. " _So dark… It feels like I'm sinking into...deep waters... Is this...death?"_ Springs, gears, electronics fell onto the ground outside of the nightmare, scattering in every direction. Her light was going out, her breath almost gone, fading to nothing. Accelerator was gripping his head violently, his eyes gleaming, lost. He couldn't see anything else. " _Mere puppets."_ It replayed over and over again in his head like he was seeing the beginning of the path that lead him here—the fate of Misaka number 1 of 20,000. The shock and brutality of his overwhelming power against the fragility of human life. _Human_? So easy was it to take that word away and how much harder it was to…accept that it was real. If only he had recognized how distinctly different they were from this bot… yet hadn't he? Hadn't he tortured each one just to try and prove that they weren't? They weren't masses of drugs and proteins nor level 5 windup dolls built for his development. Yet they didn't run, did they? He was being swallowed up by the thoughts—the dark, all-consuming waves that now defined him. The balance was so skewed—he had seen it in her eyes as the light refracted off of them and slowly sizzled out. Her mechanical words yet expressive eyes in the end… it was nothing short of murder.

Accelerator didn't even realize he had collapsed onto the floor or that he had destroyed the entire system in the room. He simply lay there, holding his head in an entirely different frame of reality. He was tapping into the memories—memories of every single clone he had slaughtered. He was watching their expressions because, before, he had only been seeing their vectors and the calculations needed to obliterate them. He had played with death and invested in their fear that never came—he had experimented on them as much as he himself was being experimented on. And always in the end, was a flash of realization when they took their last breath. Because clone or not, they were still living. They were still people.

Small hands were touching him and shaking him, but no outside response was coming from him. He couldn't even blink—his eyes only seeing the images portrayed in his mind—things he thought he had forgotten. Pieces of flesh spraying out across the ground—red erupting from the reversal of blood flow. He felt like he was covered in it head-to-toe, weighed down by the piles of bodies, smothering his lungs with the smell of iron.

"Accelerator, Misaka cries and she tries to get a response!"

The ground around him was quivering with sheer and utter power, the vectors of all motion, small or large, twisting in off-directions. The floor around his form sent cracks outwards as if the earth's spin itself couldn't even touch the space around him. Time was stopped for him. But even if chaos itself reared its ugly head, it wouldn't stop Last Order from stepping within it to reach out and try to bring him back.

She dragged him up into the wheelchair, finding him strangely light. The movement didn't even seem to register. The clone's arms were being torn off by him, last-ditch electricity slithering off his skin and lathering back into the air. The gunshots were rumbling in the background of his mind like static on a TV—as if their result would be any different. Pain also came to recollection, and faintly, he recognized the feeling of wetness dripping down from his head. Something brushed the surface.

Last Order had been watching from the surveillance bot and saw when he suddenly collapsed. She went to him, but… he wasn't really there. She turned off ESPer mode, nothing. She thought about disconnecting him from the MISAKA network entirely, but found it to be too risky, since he was already acting catatonic. Only 5 minutes had past.

"Accelerator!" She suddenly decided to get him back to the room like she was supposed to anyway and let Dr. Gekota know. She wheeled him to the elevator, down to the 2nd floor, down the hall, and into the room, wiping the blood off his forehead occasionally with her sleeve. This was bad. She panicked. He kept gripping his head. Once the door shut behind them, she grabbed his shoulders, her hair splaying out with voltage. "Accel—"

He blinked. Something jolted him out of the far reaches of his mind. As his eyes refocused, he saw a familiar face, yet it was younger. Last Order? He saw her tears fall when their eyes met. He also saw ghosts.

"Ahn?" The ferocious tenacity returned to his eyes and Last Order flung her arms around him.

"Misaka was so worried, she cries as she tries to hide the fact that she is crying." Though he was lucid now, it was clear to her by how his eyebrows furrowed and lips formed a certain frown that he had come from somewhere else—somewhere traumatizing in the recesses of his mind. Her thoughts landed on the Level 6 Shift Project lab and his previous refusal to go into the rehab center. Something had happened in there—something akin to what he had experienced previously? It didn't matter. She held him tight, and grabbed his hand to help him get into the bed. Wordlessly, he followed without resistance and lay down, staring at her almost like he had never seen her before.

"...I'm never going in there again." His voice shook with poorly concealed emotion.

Last Order buried herself in his side. Offhandedly, she realized she hadn't called for the doctor, but maybe it was better for him this way. "You don't have to, Misaka whispers, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Silence filled the space as if her words were growing into something so thick it was crushing all other thought. The memories were growing fainter, the buzzing, just quiet. He sucked in a shuddering breath and let his eyes slip closed, holding just a hand to his head. That was just it. He wasn't going to do anything he didn't want to anymore.

He drifted in and out for a long while, saying nothing. His consciousness waned and waxed. Faintly, he recognized that Last Order was still there and that his head was now on her. Part of him wanted to get them to take the shitty brat away, but for just a moment—a brief moment, he wondered how all of it would have turned out if he had something just like this… But it was too late now. He was already tainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM. We're going to timeskip now. *Insert Accel Manga here and [SPOILER ALERT]*
> 
> He heals enough to get the bandages off, Estelle shows up, He re-meets Yomikawa, has a relapse fighting some lackey dude, saves all of Academy City (ya know), then there's the whole people eating people arc where he overworks himself doing research and has another relapse, and then ends up on a boat, fighting some weird mofos. I'm sure other awesome shit is going to happen there, but we are only at Ch 58 for now.
> 
> From there in To Aru… they leave the hospital, get to Yomikawa's apartment, Accel sees them all naked and doesn't react (shocker), anddd then Last Order runs to the mall (see the foreshadow I did there?)
> 
> Enter: Kihara. Epic fight scene. GROUP shows up and steals Accel from his brief life of what? Like 40 minutes in the apartment? Thisss is where the next chapter lives, post-Kihara being blown away like Team Rocket.
> 
> You're going to see a major difference in the Last-Order-drift-off-to-sleep-snuggles and more into the unhinged darkness he is trapping himself with in the GROUP era. Feel free to PM me with requests, ideas, etc. I'm not adept at the happenings in GROUP and it's kinda fuzzy for me until WWIII, but the main focus will not be what's actually happening, but what's happening inside Accelerator. (I don't fully know what exactly I'm going to do yet, so it might take a little longer to update—hah, don't kid yourself. I'll have it done in like a day, watch).
> 
> —
> 
> Chapter Playlist:   
> Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers, Coldplay (credit to the lyrics used below)  
> Stronger - The Score


	6. Can't Cage the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist:   
> Cage the Beast - Adelitas Way (credit to the lyrics used below)  
> Obsession - Joywave

_You can't cage the beast,_

_There's no break in me_

_You can't cage the beast inside of me_

_I feel the rage,_

_And all the the pain_

_You can't cage the beast inside of me_

_Inside of me_

**-SEPTEMBER 30, Night-  
** **Time jump through Academy City Invasion Arc.**

Two men in armored suits with mechanical-sounding joints roughly grabbed an arm each of the white monster, now unconscious. Two rubber bullets had been shot point blank at his chest, effectively subduing him...by choice, was it? It was not their job to ask questions.

Two telepathic ESPers that had been flanking them now vanished to take their leave, purpose fulfilled. A couple more armored suits followed behind them to collect the injured and clean up the mess without a trace. While this was happening, a few selfish thoughts surfaced collectively in both the men's minds as they gripped the #1. _Why me_. Why had they been stuck with 'collecting' or 'retrieving' Academy's strongest level 5? _No thanks._ And yet, they both did not hesitate to grab him under the arms and start dragging. It wasn't the most effective way of getting him out, especially considering the blood trail that followed, and yet? Did they really care if he died so long as they did their jobs as they were told? There was no knowing what Academy City had on their heads to put them in this position, but one thing was for certain: they were currently 'handling' the #1 ESPer.

The silver-haired nun girl who had just left would be returning soon for Last Order, whom Accelerator had been adamant on leaving to the experts he knew: Heaven Canceller and Yoshikawa Kikyo. The girl would be transferred to a certain hospital where the rest of the virus would be extracted, and her mind recalibrated back to normal. It was no current major concern of theirs as long as it happened. A watchful eye was set on it to ensure it was followed through with. The faint sound of sirens also served to support that that was exactly what was happening.

Eventually, the dragging of the white-haired ESPer reached an end. This end was an off-brand ambulance that easily blended in with the other sanctioned ambulances for camouflage. He was traded off to the two orderlies there who looked somewhat shocked at his condition. How could he have even posed a threat in this state? The answer would always be a simple one: he was the damn #1, what did they expect? The initial shock transformed into sympathy; as healers, it was a natural feeling to have.

The sirens of this ambulance too pierced the rainy night, and a slight sound emitted from the prone ESPer who was now being strapped tightly to a gurney. They could only guess how many bones had been broken. It was promised, that it was at least his nose and a couple ribs from the general appearance and stirrings of bruises.

"Shh, don't talk," said the doctor who was purposely onboard the ambulance. Usually, it would be going to a hospital where the doctor waited, but not this one. This was a moving hospital. There was no way they could ever be found, tracked, or named. Despite this, however, said female doctor seemed very impressionable because of her long, wavy, blonde hair and curvy silhouette that made her look absolutely divine.

Faintly, and without comprehendable thought, Accelerator's eyes cracked to see a blurry visage of her leaning over him and tapping on his ribcage. The pain was so unbearable along with the wailing of the sirens, that he had drifted regrettably back into a waking state. He couldn't form conclusions or thoughts that would pertain to words. If he could, he'd ask for more rubber bullets. It would be better not to be awake, and the fact that he was even conscious could be accredited to his effortless vitality as the strongest. Regardless of his weak disposition, the crammed mind of the #1 ESPer hardly ever went dark or stayed that way for long. Even in sleep.

His eyes were dulled, pained, slightly lifeless. They were watching what she was doing with something bridging on interest for his own state of being. He would probably be wondering where he was or what was going to happen next, yet the processing power of his injured brain was spent so far beyond bounds, that he could be considered brain dead at the present moment perhaps.

She found a broken rib after applying a great deal of pressure. It elicited a hiss and a slight gurgle sound and dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth, which certainly wasn't good at all. It meant internal bleeding. Ugh. Her job was cut out for her. Somehow, she felt this was a frequent thing with her current patient. Yet, how could it not be? She would venture to guess, with his title as the strongest, he got into a lot of fights. The doctor's chestnut eyes rolled around in exasperation as she gave a request to one of the orderlies. Blood was wiped away and a nasal cannula pressed into his nose, forcing air directly into his lungs regardless of how shallow his breaths were. He started coughing instantly and more blood came up, his eyes squeezing shut. Glorious. She rolled up her sleeves.

_So this was the result of Amata Kihara's work, huh?_

She growled under her breath and started prepping to bind his broken ribs in place just as the driver was starting to pull out and away, headed in no direction particularly known (Route G). Her name was Mezamine Kihara, MD, DO, though she did not ever go by her surname. That's right, she belonged to the Kihara family, unbeknownst to even her birth father who was now dead. She celebrated this fact in secret, and hoped the teenager currently on her table would somehow wring himself back out of the darkness eventually. She had no control over that, however. She had just strategically inserted herself into a position that allowed her to save the life of the one who had ended the endless experimentation her father had buried himself into—who had also developed the monster before her now. To her, who had never known him, he was already dead to her. In fact, all the other Kiharas, who she knew not even the extent of might as well not exist either. All that mattered now that Amata was dead, were her patients and keeping under the radar. If that involved working with the darkside of Academy City, so be it.

She finished patching up the torso of the semi-conscious patient, feeling so much regret for the suffering he was going through and would be going through, for in her ambulance, was also a technical team issued by GROUP with other intentions. Usually, this wasn't an option for her customers, but it was a special case, and she was pressured into accepting the conditions of the agreement. So there they were: the visage of her father, perched and waiting for Accelerator to be stabilized enough to swoop in and confiscate his electrode to tinker with it.

She knew what they were going to do, but she also knew she couldn't stop them. This was something that separated her from Heaven Canceller. She was powerless. As soon as she finished taping together the lacerations on his face, she braced herself to put his nose back together. _Just how many punches had he gotten to the face?_ It was unreal. With all of her medical knowledge, she really had no idea how he was still staring at her and not passed out for days. There was something, too, about the way he was looking at her. It was almost as if he was taking the time to memorize what she looked like, but from her knowledge of his brain injury in his file, there was no way. He should be completely a vegetable with no means of calculation to that nth degree. Yet still… There seemed to be some kind of intelligence in his dazed stare.

"I'm Dr. Mezamine—do you know where you are?" She whispered close to his ear, but all Accelerator heard was: "Is Mezamine medicinal—can you placement the knowledge found?" Confusion entered his eyes and his brow furrowed as if trying to understand. In the next shuddering breath, it looked like his attention span died out and he had stopped trying, she noted.

"I'm going to set your nose now." She knew he couldn't interpret her just from his expression, but it felt weird to her not to say anything at least before the sedatives kicked in. _How much longer?_

By now, there were blood-filled pieces of gauze filling a medical disposal unit almost completely. She monitored one of her male orderlies as he came back with Accelerator's blood type and set him up with a transfusion, IV, and the strongest sedatives they had. If he was bleeding internally, and about to lose even more blood, it was important to avoid hypovolemic shock. She removed the nasal cannula, cutting him off momentarily from the flow of oxygen. It would be difficult with the extent of his injuries to keep it steady, she frowned. She would have to intubate him.

Without further hesitation, the doctor reached up with one of her many pieces of Academy City tech to detect and rebreak his nose back into place. He had such a chizeled, ethereal face that it would be a shame for him to end up with a crooked nose or deviated septum. It was important to do it right.

_CRACK!_

"Hrrr..ggh!" Blood flowed evenly from his nose and was suctioned away immediately. She quickly pulled out a ET (endotracheal) tube and carefully let the machine assistance help her ease it through his mouth into his trachea. It was connected to a vehilator that would help him breathe. This was usually done when a patient was unconscious, but judging from the damage to his head, he most certainly had a grade three concussion so it was better to avoid putting him under anesthesia. By now though, he shouldn't be feeling too much of anything and it showed by his lack of reaction. She also lifted the gurney for the boy's head about 30 degrees to make it easier and keep the blood from settling in his nose. Then she stuck gauze in his nostrils to collect any more that leaked out.

By now, the technical team hovering in the background were eyeing her up as if asking if she was done. It was laughable. Those bastards had no idea the extent of his injuries. At first glance through the public eye, it could look like he just got a bit battered, but from a medical perspective, his insides were trashed. He must have taken repeated blows in the same areas… at different intervals of time, no less. Was he in two fights? Maybe her father had strategically retreated from him at one point. Who knew? What mattered now was those bastards not breathing down her neck.

"I'm trying to work," she snarled at them, a fiery light entering her otherwise, angelic eyes. She really just looked like a Greek goddess in human form that just so happened to have a medical degree in both pathways of licensure. That's right, she was no one to question. She had the boobs, butt, _and_ the brains. "Why don't you go in the back until I'm finished? I'll come get you." There was no room to argue.

Some grumbling. They left, bowing under a clear plastic curtain that separated where Mezamine and Accelerator were to mingle near the computers that had been set up. They were waiting to analyze the device he was wearing and ready to tamper with it: orders from above in which this doctor had no authority or directive.

She sighed when they left and turned back to Accelerator with a bright flashlight. With all the tech she had at her disposal, sometimes all it took was a little light and a sharp eye. By now, his eyes had fallen shut as if he were too exhausted from the alterations she was making to his body and from the effects of the heavy sedatives. She gave him credit though. Still, he damned well better be conscious. She touched him lightly and spoke again.

"Hey, you gotta stay awake until I'm done." She had a rough way of speaking despite her voice being airy and sweet. The smell of dahlia's drew off her skin though no one was there aside from her serious two-people army of orderlies to smell it. The one male was named Maestra and the tall female was Astra. None of their names were the ones on their birth certificates, though Mezamine's name was close-to. Her mother was American, and she had gone to school in Chicago, Illinois.

There was no response from her patient, so she flipped open one of his eyelids, getting a reaction then that kinda sorta resembled a glare from a baby alligator. She had to stop herself from laughing through her facemask, snickering instead. The glare intensified to a baby raptor degree and she took this opportunity to blare her bright-ass flashlight right into the pupils of his eyes. They didn't shrink in the slightest. Big surprise, but it wasn't good. With his previous brain damage, it didn't bode well.

She assessed his brain with her MRI goggles, and after a few moments, could see that at least there wasn't any permanent damage. There was swelling that had to be monitored. It was likely he wouldn't be back up and about for at least a full day.

She removed the goggles and put them away with the flashlight and proceeded with wrapping up his head just in case. She could see the faintest of scarring under his bangs where he must have been shot previously. His head couldn't take much more. He was only a child… Though his file didn't say his age or even his name, he looked like he was only 15 or 16 years old. A child. It made her hate her father even more.

After sparing him a few moments of rest, she carefully went to remove the choker-styled electrode from around his neck, but froze when a pale, weak hand tried to grip her wrist. Instead of prying him loose, she smiled sadly and started dabbing antiseptic on the rawness on his knuckles. Looked like he got in quite a few hits himself. She was smirking when he blinked and let his hand fall back down, noting that she wasn't a threat.

"I'm just going to recharge the battery," she lied and then also hated herself. It made her stomach feel like a pit, and she swore she'd repay him someday for doing this to him.

The electrode was lifted away without further resistance, and she carried it to the technicians, wanting to throw it at them in frustration. Instead, they just took it and immediately began a specs analysis on it.

"Before he wakes up, we will have extended the battery life to 30 minutes and added in a safety measure," the one lab-coated lackey spoke mechanically to both his partner and the doctor. Why he was telling her this, she didn't know. Mezamine simply nodded and didn't mention that Accelerator was already awake. It didn't really matter. He was probably noticing things he would or wouldn't remember, but he likely wasn't gathering anything from it… Half of her hoped he wouldn't forget though.

* * *

**-OCTOBER 1, 12 hours later-**

_Beep beep beep._

That sound again. Measured. He was frequenting hospitals often, it seemed. It felt like everything was moving though? He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. Wires protested in their all-too familiar way. It looked like the inside of an ambulance. He looked sideways, eyes going in and out of focus as he tried to see and calculate his surroundings.

"Don't move or I'll knock you out again," offhandedly, "stubborn bastard."

His eyes widened slightly until he found the source of the feminine voice. Then, he glared vehemently when he realized he didn't know who it was and that she was most likely a doctor from Academy City's darkside. He was going to bark a hateful retort at her, but touched his mouth and realized something was blocking his throat, but he couldn't really feel it.

"..."

"Relax. You're on a ventilator. It's helping you breathe, since you're body is so weak. Now lay the hell down. Like I said." She lightly nudged at his shoulders until he lay back again, his eyes now even more vicious. She noted he hadn't reached for the electrode once, so her life wasn't in danger, maybe?

"Focus on healing. I have a two-day window with you and I'm not about to send you off without being sure it's not to your grave."

Accelerator let his eyes fall shut and let the breaths come to calm himself lest he rip everything from his body and drop a category five hurricane on their asses. He was fully aware he had been dragged through the mud—that fucker said it himself as he was pounding his face in.

 _Aa~_ —a callous smile slipped onto his lips, (which probably looked strange with the tube)—that bastard, _Kihara-kunnn,_ he was dead at long last. His body had been obliterated in an orange telasma haze! There was _nothingggg_ left of him now, _uhu_.

And what of Last Order…?

He had no idea where she was now, but he swore if those suited bastards didn't keep their word, he'd be the one to destroy Academy City himself. Until he knew for sure though, the existence of the city was necessary for Last Order and the Sister's survival, being as they were illegal clones; however, if she wasn't safe...what use would he have for this place anymore? _EheHahAha_ … If that was the case, he'd take them all out. It would be a fucking bloodbath! Though, he was able to think, process, and calculate, so that meant Last Order had to be safe, right...? He touched the electrode, eyes still closed, machine breathing for him. It was on and functioning. Last Order had to be okay.

With everything that had happened, he'd never allow himself feel safe again. He'd never give into the feeling of peace. It was a barrage—one threat after another. Amai. Kihara. Last Order was a target—a valuable prize to be gained, and ever since he had been shot through the skull, it was a never-ending flux. He had to rely on this damn choker for the proxy calculations needed to enact his vector control and reflection. Once the battery ran out on it...that was it; all their lives were forfeit. Hell, this was _just_ demonstrated. Still, he had also taken hit after hit even with his reflection _on_ … This was making him start to doubt his own abilities. Regardless of what state he was in, could he really protect anything? It was all just a sick excuse he played with like a coward instead of facing the cold, hard facts.

_Something had to give._

Dead, emotionless eyes opened casually, refocusing on the blonde woman who was scrutinizing him. He stared blankly right back at her, silent not by choice. She seemed to gather this and got up to check on the machine that was forcibly pumping air into his lungs. Another impulse to tear everything apart gripped him. He grit his teeth in resistance and felt his hand quivering at his choker. One button. Dozens of calculations. He could go find Last Order and fuck the agreement he had just made. But what would that solve? They'd never be safe.

_Something had to change._

He had never been the type to 'find himself' or think about change. Instead, he simply gave into this primal form, letting the urge of hostility that was ingrained in the fabric of his being takeover. It was better than thinking about the glimpse of peace he had let slip through. It was easier than trying to think too hard about it—than pining fruitlessly over what could be. Or even what could be different. It was too late for that now.

_Could only good people do good things?_

The thought that pried its way into his head shocked him. He glanced in slight interest around his bed to try and see evidence of whatever chemical bullshit they had him on that was making him think this way. He couldn't see anything from where he was and he was having trouble focusing his sight in general. Everything had a fuzz to it and he wasn't sure he could read anything in this state anyway. The doctor seemed to notice his listless stare from over at the machine and approached to touch his forehead with a palm while looking closely at his eyes.

"Ya know," she said with a deep frown that could probably combat his own, "If you keep looking lifeless like that, you're not going to get very far." She shrugged at her own words, half-wondering why she was so bothered by the look in his eyes. Usually, patients looked pretty out of it when they came to, but this was something else and exceeded the a-typical dazed look. It was almost as if he was ravaging his own mind and casting away something… Did it have something to do with—

 _GROUP—they were manipulating him: a child who was vulnerable._ Was it... his Personal Reality that he was tearing apart to come to terms with it? She may not look it, but Mezamine was more than a little excellent at guessing games. Plus, she had the clearance to read his file. She knew what abuse he went through at her father's hands. To her, it was abuse. To them, it was the development of the strongest ESPer power in the city. There was a set mold they had wanted to forge him out of, but it was cracking.

In Accelerator's mind, he had abandoned all the previous rules that defined a villain like himself as incapable of doing 'good things'. This was so he could become as dark as possible—redefining the structure of what was and what wasn't possible. This was his world now—his Personal Reality that could not be confined by anyone, much less those who were now 'controlling' him. It was a farce—a make believe envisioned truth, that would allow him to most easily outwit the darkness by ultimately becoming much darker than it. He had gotten a taste for the light, so brief it made what he would become feel inescapable while it cast an even darker shadow because of it.

And yet?

The preconceived notions that a villain—a murderer such as himself—could not save someone good was no longer real to him. He had saved Last Order many times now, even if it was what one would view as the furthest thing from 'saving'—even if it was cloaked in evil, bathed in blood—even if he had to crawl on the floor to accomplish it. He was advancing along a righteous path of darkness, and he was still breathing. _It was possible_. If he could eat up the darkness and outwit it, he could destroy it from the inside. He wasn't going to hold back. There was going to be blood _everywhere_.

His look abruptly changed to something so fierce the doctor jerked away. She felt the blood drain out of her face momentarily and then sighed. She didn't know what exactly was happening inside her patient's head, which must have already been a mess to begin with, but it was her job to heal him physically, so she couldn't get fearful of him now.

"Mmm—let me test something." Abruptly, she turned off the machine that was providing a breathing assist. He seemed lively enough that he could probably take over, though it wouldn't be fun getting the tube out.

"..." Accelerator's thoughts skidded to a violent halt. It felt like he was holding his breath, but he wasn't? It was such an odd sensation that he didn't know what to do and so he didn't do anything aside from stare at the doctor who looked more like a scientist than anything else. _Test something._ Sure, just let him be the guinea pig for her experiments! With _pleasure_! Black licked at the sides of his vision and he closed his eyes, not even having any fight left in him. He rather just sink into it so he wouldn't have to sort through the tendrils of marred misanthropy assailing him now.

"Breathe! Dammit!" Mezamine lightly whacked his mending rib cage without doing any damage, but enough to jolt him out of his spiraling decline of consciousness. His eyes snapped back open and a hitching breath sucked in. She put her stethoscope to his chest against his lungs and listened.

"'Nother deep breath," she muttered, and he compiled without really thinking about it.

"'Kay another," she muttered again. _This was bullshit_ , he breathed out and breathed back in, turning his head to the side with a fed up look like breathing was such a goddamn chore and why the fuck should he have to.

"Alright. Try breathing normally. I'm going to pull out the tube and you're going to hate it." Talk about no filter. She didn't even wait for him to brace himself; she just laid a towel over him, pressed a few buttons, and let the machine help her guide the tube slowly out...with loads of bloody saliva.

He couldn't really feel what was happening nor did he find himself caring too much about it, but it tickled all the way out and made him writhe. It also made him remember the last time he felt a sensation similar... Last Order's hair. _Fuckkk_ , he was so sick of being _touched_. His eyebrows bent down and he coughed harshly as if his gag reflex knew something he did not.

"Not so bad," she said. "Hey, do you talk or are you mute?"

"Do you...ever...shut up?" He rasped.

"That's the spirit! Now go back to sleep and I'll wake you in the evening so we can start getting you up and about." The sedatives had been wearing off so she inserted more into the IV and waited for it to take effect. It was fast-acting. He dropped like a fly in winter.

* * *

Despite the lighting being exactly the same, when he woke up, he could tell it was night, that it was no longer raining, and that they were stopped. Instead of sitting up right away, he let himself lay there for a while, trying to let the fog drain out of him. Briefly, he wondered where they were going, but the thought was _laughable_. They weren't going anywhere. This was one of those ambulance services and he was just cargo. Still, that didn't explain why they were stopped. He yanked at the straps pinning his legs and torso to the gurney, but didn't have the strength to get further than just loosening them. Of course, he could break free easily, but...was it worth it? In this situation, it might be better to keep his head down until an opportunity presented itself. And be fucking prey? _Nahh._

He pressed the button on the electrode to power mode and easily snapped the straps with kinetic vectors, testing his feet on the ground when he was back in normal mode. Accelerator was extremely unsteady, but he grabbed the nearby IV stand and used it on his right side to hold himself up and move towards the back where the doors where. It was a pretty large ambulance. There was evidence of computers having been set up there. As he approached, he started to hear muffled voices outside. They were completely masculine so none of them belonged to the doctor. He turned the electrode on again and amplified the sound waves to clearly hear the politely spoken words. There was a pressure building in his chest and a strange buzzing in his head as he tried to focus on them.

"As promised, here is the final drop-off address. Please pass it along to the driver when he returns." A pause. "Is _he_ awake?"

"No," someone else replied simply—the shifting of his nervous feet was also heard.

"Ah. Will the doctor be able to get him up? I have necessary information to pass along to him."

"I believe we have sme—"

The back doors were kicked open, lightly, so as to not completely break them. The loud whack of them smacking against the sides of the outer body of the vehicle shut the other party up completely. Accelerator had a feeling they'd have a need for the doors later so he didn't break them, but his menacing entrance was still on-point. He cocked his head to the side with a demonic glow to his crimson eyes and a malicious smile splitting across his face. Crisp autumn wind batted at his white hair, collecting the moonlight and fluorescence from the streetlights. He gripped the vectors of the wind slightly, calculations running through the forefront of his mind, swirling them in sheer intimidation and control. He'd kill them in a second depending on how they answered.

"Ahn? What did you want from me?" Accelerator growled, effectively hiding the exhaustion from his voice and the soreness of his throat.

"Excellent," the shorter one of the two replied, running a hand through his neatly combed dark brown hair. He had such an orderly appearance to him that he looked like he had walked right out of a useless painting. He was hardly threatening, yet Accelerator felt something odd coming from him that made him so anyway. This, in turn, resulted in him keeping his distance.

"It's great to make your acquaintance. My name is Unabara Mitsuki and I have information to relay to you in accordance with your agreement. We'll be working together. First thing's first, how are you feeling though?" It was an empty, emotionless question that made Accelerator's stomach churn. The one now known as Unabara didn't actually care about the answer to the question he was asking; he was only assessing him to ensure he was lucid enough to comprehend the information he was about to relay.

"What does it look like?" The #1 retorted back with venom laced in. "Cut to the chase. You're wasting my time." _And battery life._

As if reading his mind, the one known as Unabara gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Not to worry. I'm no threat. I just wanted to let you know that you have been officially transferred to Nagatenjouki Academy and you will be taken to what we refer to as the 'Nap Room.' Take your time recuperating there and you will be hearing from us. Oh and try not to run into anyone you know; that would be a problem for us."

"..." He hated the sound of everything to do with this guy. He was back in the grips of Academy City's darkside and there was no going back now. He'd sink in as deep as he could go. He'd show them what real darkness looked like. _Eheh_.

"W-w-w-what is going on hereee?!" Mezamine, the doctor, arrived on-scene from the rest stop area and cut in, seeing Accelerator looming over both Maestra and some kid she didn't recognize. Maetra was holding a piece of paper and Accel looked irritated as all hell. He also looked like he was about to collapse. He was swaying slightly. "SIT DOWN. Before you fall down," she hissed, not sounding at all like a healer. She was _pissed_. To the kid she didn't know, but assumed was with GROUP trying to foil her work: "What are you doing to _my_ patient?"

"Tch," Accelerator clicked his tongue, switched his choker back to normal mode, and slowly sunk down to sit on the edge of the metal entryway where his legs dangled over the side. He left the IV stand there to help him up later.

"?" He hadn't done anything to him. Unabara was simply confused.

"You can still fall from there you nimwit." Mezamine approached, passing by Unabara and bumping shoulders with him. She turned her eyes back with a serious look like he was in the way. From there, she climbed up into the ambulance and took the white-haired teenager's arm to try and hoist him further inside like luggage.

"Oi. What do you think you're doing?" He parked himself to resist.

"Preventing another concussion. Get inside."

"Tch. I'm not going to suddenly pass out. You remind me of a certain woman who's always making demands."

"Do you listen to her?"

"No. I make my own rules."

"Not right now you don't."

"..."

At this point, Accelerator and the doctor were in a tug-of-war scuffle with his arm on the floor of the ambulance, and she had managed to get him away from the edge to his own dismay. Winded, disheveled, and overly frustrated, Accelerator finally gave in and stopped pulling away from her. Briefly, he saw the preppy kid who had named himself Unabara Mitsuki make his leave. The other guy who was one of Mezamine's orderlies, Maestra, saw him off, but it wasn't any concern of his. Accelerator had gotten the information he was meant to without having had the opportunity to press for more. It so happened to fit perfectly with their fucked up mysterious style.

"Get back to bed before I take away your electrode, _Accel_."

"Haah? I'm not some kid you can just 'take things away' from," he spat back letting her help him up anyway. He grabbed the IV stand on impulse and leaned his weight into it instead of touching her. She took note of his weaker right side and filed it away in her head as unrelated to his current injuries, but still notable. The brain damage perhaps? Hm, the electrode couldn't account for all of it in normal mode it seemed.

"Still, I'm glad you're able to move about, despite the extent of your injuries."

"Extent?"

"Broken nose, major concussion, three broken ribs, you know, the typical." Sarcasm was dripping from her lips. Accelerator shed a crazed smile at her exuberant tone. She took risks.

"Oh~ You think you know me and what I've been through?" The sound of the back doors sealing shut sounded in the background with two sets of footsteps.

"Yes, I've read your file."

"So you know with one touch I can reverse your blood flow and watch your inwards spray all over this room, then?" He casually reached out his left hand towards her just to scare her off his case. It was shaking. She balked with whisperings of fear until she noticed those slight, quaking movements in his hand. She grabbed the hand. He was just a traumatized child who knew how to put up a front for survival.

"You've been through so much," she whispered, then raising the cheeriness of her voice, tried to reset the tone. "Why don't we eat some late dinner while we're stopped?" Maestra and Astra materialized behind her with bags of fast food.

"You're going to feed an injured person fast food. Are you even a real doctor?" He yanked his hand away.

"Most certainly I am, but does this look like a restaurant to you? It's still important to eat. Plus, everyone needs a little poison in their life."

* * *

The smell of fried chicken had permeated the ambulance to such an extent that it didn't leave. He had stopped smelling it at some point though. Accelerator sat resting against the wall, arms crossed against his bare chest where the beginnings of bandages started. The sedatives were completely out of his system and he was not connected to anything. The sassy doctor lady had performed a few miracles on him that had only left him with a migraine and achy ribs. He harshly rubbed his temples and sighed.

"Oi."

The doctor looked up from her phone where she was apparently watching something and met a set of annoyed, red eyes.

"Have something for my head? I can't even think straight."

"Pain coming back now?" She needlessly inquired, reaching over and fumbling through a tiny square drawer. She pawed through some pill bottles and arrived at one that was probably a whole mixture of various drugs. She careless tossed it to him like she was throwing out a tissue. He caught it and looked at it suspiciously.

"What are you giving me, woman?"

"Exactly what you asked for." She grabbed a bottle of icelandic water out of the mini fridge and threw that over to him too.

"..." He poured a few capsules out of the container and into his palm, unscrewed the cap of the water and was about to take them…

"Woahwoah!" She caught his wrist, phone clattering to the table. "We're going to be there in just a few and I don't want to have to carry you in. Don't you _read_? It says to take two every 6 hours and that's already a heavy dose as-is. You have three there. This is an opioid—what are you trying to do?"

"?" He blinked confused eyes and carefully shifted his palm, still in her grip, to dump one of them back into the bottle. He took the two remaining and swallowed, then spoke. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"You've never had a prescription? The hell, don't you get migraines from...?"

He shrugged and went to hand the pills back to her, but that was her answer.

"No, Accel, you keep them, you fool. And fill it at a pharmacy when you run out if you still have pain… I'm sure that will be the case."

"Hah, then I'd be a fucking drug addict. Is this really what you want to be teaching a child?"

"Don't patronize me you sheltered lab—" She covered her mouth and looked away.

"Haah?"

"I'm sorry. I don't even know you and I'm already concerned. Just contact me if you ever need anything, okay?" The ambulance was slowing to a halt and they felt it shift into park. Maetra and Astra came over to see him off. Astra left a crutch against the wall for him with a shy smile.

The white-haired monster simply scowled and got up from the bed with some effort, trying to keep his balance. He took the crutch and leaned his weight into it, moving toward the doors. He had no idea what to expect, but it better look like a damn hotel suite with a shower. It was the least they could do. As he was leaving slowly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned back with a dark look.

"Hey, take your leftovers." A bag of fried chicken was thrust against his chest. He took it with slight surprise.

"Someone like you doesn't belong doing jobs like these," He said and turned to jump down, wincing at the jarring of his ribs. He looked back without turning his head. "You should stay out of the darkness."

It was his way of saying thank you, but in a way that also looked out for Mezamine and her crew. She silently waved and shut the doors behind his retreating figure. She'd probably never see him again, but the thought made her sad.

* * *

Accelerator entered the building that already looked downscale from the outside, but he knew not to judge a book by its cover. Academy City's darkside was always like that. He entered through an ancient-looking wooden door that creaked when he opened it and was littered with various paint colors. As soon as it shut behind him, a mechanical click sounded with a few beeps, letting him know that whatever system was set up had been calibrated to immediately lock behind him. He frowned and continued down a dark hallway where he found a room that was rather general and contained an equally general bed. Tch. There were a few other rooms with the same attributes and atmosphere, likely in case others were to take residence overnight in the 'Nap Room.' Luckily, there was a fairly large bathroom with a Japanese-styled tub and glass shower. It was decent, he guessed. There was also a mini fridge where he tossed the leftovers to reheat later in the accompanying microwave.

Spent from his exploits looking the place over, he sat down on a bed in one of the rooms and stared out into the dimness. He was starting to feel the effects of whatever he had taken and not only did he feel exhausted, he also felt wary and distrustful of his dingy surroundings and the debt he was going to pay off by working in the blood-washed alleys. It was intimidating considering his short reprieve from it, and exciting all-the-while. What bullshit would he find buried—what terrible secrets would he uncover? If it was anything like his own history, it was sure to be a wild ride.


	7. Natural Villian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Playlist:   
> Natural Villain - The Man Who (credit to the lyrics used below)

_They say that time can heal a man_

_But I still wear the scars_

_I used to keep them hidden_

_But now I like them where they are_

**-OCTOBER 4, Night-**

**Time jump past Skill-Out Uprising Arc.**

Based on experience alone, Accelerator was well aware not to underestimate a level 0. Komaba Ritoku had been one of those formidable non-ESPers. With good reason. He had been forced into a position along with other Skill-Out members to combat the darkness, lest it eat them alive. Well, more darkness had also come in the form of himself, even if he hadn't been the one to pull the final trigger. It was a bittersweet ending—out with a bang just like he himself could have been this past summer, but instead, the white-haired #1 stood before Komaba like a mirror, reflecting the bullet fired at him, regardless of his own inner dialogue. It didn't matter what Komaba's phone wallpaper was. It didn't matter who he had waiting for him at home. What mattered was the balance of power—what mattered was the corruption that fed the darkness that came for him.

From this mangled death in a back corner alleyway, Accelerator again faced the simplicity of his own power—how easy it was to kill. He watched life filter through him and disperse into nothing—as if his ability wasn't even vector control anymore. He killed without trying, even with aphasia limiting the reach and timing of his calculations. In the end, nothing had really changed, had it? He was still a natural villain.

Even so, when ordered to kill that third string's—mother, Mikoto Misuzu, he didn't take the job. Real villains didn't kill the innocent for such ridiculous reasons, such as the Recovery Movement. In fact, did the drunk woman deserve to die simply for wanting to extract her daughter from the coming conflicts with the Roman Catholic Church? He honestly didn't care to give it much thought. Even if he was avoiding thinking about it, it didn't matter.

However, this refusal on his part—regardless of his secret intention to go against any attempt on her life—helped him to learn of his electrode's new 'safety device'. Apparently while he was unconscious, it had been taken from him and tampered with when they extended the battery life. His thoughts had first assailed Mezamine, the doctor, but his judgement of character knew better than to believe she had tricked him. It must have been analyzed in that ambulance—he had seen remnants of computers—others had been there. In a moment of weakness, he had been given a tether. It made him want to trample their plans to kill Misaka Misuzu all-the-more. So he did. Without his powers.

Turned out practicing at a shooting range certainly helped him accomplish his goals. But if they could limit ESPer mode, that also meant they'd be able to completely immobilize him. The electrode would always be his weakness, but there were ways around every weakness. If he was going to outwit the darkness, he'd need a solution for all of them to avoid being exploited or having them used against him. The first step was getting the electrode specs from that other doctor with the frog-face. However, GROUP didn't give him the time—perhaps purposely—to contemplate let alone take action on his newfound discovery. Instead, he was given the gift of a new solo mission. And what a gift it was.

School District 21: the primary use for water storage. What was interesting was the amount of freight being imported into the district to a certain orphanage preschool located in the mountainous area near the nature park. Accelerator had never had the pleasure of exploring said park (luckily), but the data indicated that the orphanage was set up as a fatal safe for children that were essentially 'dropped off' in Academy City. Maybe even Accelerator had been one of those brats at one point—hell if he could care to remember.

Well, now this orphanage—or rather the assholes who ran it were a security threat. According to Unabara, they were planning to dump a chemical formula into the water storage tanks, using a mini-stealth-army they had established under the radar. Didn't sound too much different than any other going-ons in this corrupted, fucked up city. Accelerator wasn't the least bit surprised. He alone would be enough to take out this small army and destroy the chemical before it was leaked into the water supply. Destroying was his forte, after all.

The truck he was appointed by GROUP arrived promptly in the evening at district 21. Accelerator, who had just finished gulping down the rest of his canned black coffee, tossed it onto the seat and exited with a curt wave at the driver. It seemed like such a normal night—as if nothing was amiss at all or as though a bunch of wannabe villains weren't about to end up as corpses. He sneered to himself, a glint of red eyes focused on the sidewalks lit by streetlights. The park area was vacated, but even from afar, he could see lights through the dense woods. That was their hideout: the orphanage.

* * *

Misaka Mikoto had heard a rumor. And while she was used to getting dragged into things, this was oddly different. Not only was it _wrong_ , but if it were true, it could only be described as cruel, inhumane—a crime. This time, she wasn't left out of the loop. In fact, she was the only one in the loop. Thanks to her hacking ability, she had just about uncovered what looked to her like an operation under the guise of an orphanage. Were they forcing children to mix chemicals!? Were they going to dump them into the water supply?! All of Academy City would be affected—they'd have to get water from outside the city! It was a possible disaster and she couldn't believe Anti-Skill wasn't all over this already. According to records at least, the organization didn't even have a single clue—had they not heard the rumor?

It wasn't like curfew was hard to get around anyway. What? Was she going to get mugged for her pocket change? Oh, if they wanted it, she'd send it _flying_ theirway. Ha. Ha. To her dismay, she did not get mugged or hit on; however, she was able to slip past radar and take to the empty streets. She did not ask for help; she did not call Touma; she simply left on her own accord. Beating up and taking down a couple of puppeteers would be a cakewalk, and she _loved_ the very idea of cake. Perhaps she'd treat herself, after this.

* * *

On the outside, the orphanage looked so innocent, it made Accelerator's stomach churn—which in itself was an odd sensation for him. Why did he care how it looked? It was a damn building. At this hour of night, cold dew had already gathered on the grass and was soaking into his shoes, making his feet feel damp. He scoured at the mere fact that, again, the outside world could touch him now. Not only that, but the darkness too was ubiquitous and smothering. He ground his teeth and stopped, taking a moment for slight recon, since much of the information he received from GROUP was garbage.

He pressed his lean back against the cold stone of the orphanage building, feeling it dig into his spine as he turned to peer inside the corner of the window. The blinds were drawn, only alluding to the fact that there were multiple bodies inside. Not enough for an army though. He sighed, seeing his breath in the faint, silvery light from the moon sliver overhead. He'd just have to do this his way, he guessed. Throw caution to the wind, not like it mattered.

He pushed off from the wall, leaning heavily into his crutch that sunk somewhat into the wet soil of the forested area. Ah, the pains of not having a sidewalk. He upturned moss, struggling slightly to get to the front door. It was freshly painted in glossy red. His eyes narrowed and he reached up a pale hand to his electrode, hovering a moment over the button. He shut one eye and sighed again. Guess he'd blow down the door, take out the first guy, threaten the second with blood reversal, and then get his answers as to where the rest of their stealth army was and the chemical supply that way. Whoever was the head honcho, he'd get the information he needed and then end him. It would be over in five minutes.

He flipped the switch and the door fell away like paper. Immediately, he had a gun pointed at his head by some tall, burly scum. Academy City's #1 grabbed the barrel and pulled it closer to his skull, hiding a look of mild amusement under a thin veil of hostility. The man looked more than a little surprised.

"Go ahead, fire." Accelerator growled, sizing up the rest of the room while he was waiting for the man to get the balls to end a life (little did he know it would be his own). In one corner, it looked like there was some unknown kind of device he didn't recognize, which prickled him slightly, but it was powered down so it didn't currently pose a threat. The trigger against his head tightened slightly, the man's breathing uneven.

"Who are you, brat?!" For some reason, the image of Last Order flashed into his mind's eye at the sound of that, but he batted it away. Seemed they had more in common than he initially thought. They both had their share of dealing with brats, _apparently_.

There was a table on the other side of the room where whiskey was poured into cloudy glasses and where three other men sat—had been sitting around it. They were rising to their feet presently, one pulling another gun, the other reaching into his pocket, and the third fumbling with scattered papers that looked very valuable. To them, Accelerator looked like just a middle school kid—a _brat_ , have you. To him, the fact that they pulled a gun on him, told him they didn't care either way.

"Does it matter?" He taunted, tilting his head further into the barrel. It would have been cold, but he didn't feel it. He was back to not feeling anything when he had auto-reflection on. Transitioning always felt… off. His eyes lit up with callousness nonetheless. "...if I'm about to end your little game."

The gunshot _finally_ rang out ...with enough encouragement, and a limp body fell beside him. He heard unintelligible curses and more gunshots happened instantaneously, bullets scattering and burying themselves into the plaster walls. Accelerator kicked himself forward, increasing his momentum to slam another man with a gun into the opposing wall, a pale hand clenching his neck.

"Guhrggg!"" The gun clattered to the ground. Accelerator's teeth showed as he chuckled derisively.

"Have you ever thought…" an eye flitted backwards to the other two men, making sure the papers weren't being burned, " ' _Hmm, what would happen if my blood flowed in the opposite direction?_ ' Well, I'll let you in on a little secret." He leaned forward, white hair brushing up against the man's scaly cheek—who quickly tried to quiver away, but the death grip on his neck didn't allow for it. He whispered,

"It'll cause your organs to explode out of your skin. You'll suffer first. It'll be unlike any pain you've seen or felt. What do you say? Want to be one of the few in this world that have experienced it?" He withdrew, the dripping words having twisted his expression, lapsing on the edge of mania.

A padding of small feet was heard through the stairway leading upstairs to the second level.

* * *

When Mikoto finally reached District 21, she pulled out her GPS where an address was already entered previously during her research. It was the address to the orphanage. She really didn't know what she was doing here or why she didn't just report her findings on the rumor to Anti-Skill, but here she was, about to prove just how much of a rule-breaking vigilante she had become. It may have been the influence of a certain someone—or it may have been just her own desire to prove to herself she could solo saving the day from the darkside of Academy City. Maybe it was just a power-flex, but the #3 level 5 had a stake in wanting to help people however she could, while also putting a stint in anything the darkside was cooking up. It was because of this deep-rooted horror in her and the hostility that those in the darkness exuded that she knew waiting for Anti-Skill just wanted an option. And it was probably a mistake.

As she approached the orphanage through the wooded area, squinting through the darkness, she heard gunshots and instinctively stiffened. Oh god, what if she was too late? What if that was one of the children that didn't mix the chemicals properly? Honestly, she had no idea if there were even children involved or if the whole orphanage thing was just a cover. Were they in-fighting? Someone got to them before her? It could be anything, really. No level of assumption would answer any questions. Should she turn around?

She increased her pace and ran along the side of the building in stealth, noticing immediately that the front door had been kicked in, not by a foot. It looked like someone had completely broken the hinges with a bulldozer. The entire thing was shattered. Who could have...

* * *

The man in Accelerator's grip squirmed, legs kicking as a child much smaller than himself held him up as if he were underwater and weighed nothing. An ESPer! Of course! There was only one way a kid could have avoided getting shot in the head at point blank range. The man was trying to make eye contact with their leader behind him, but the damn kid's face was in the way. All he could do now was try and buy time.

"I—I'll tell you everything. Pl—please just don't…"

"Don't?"

"Don't kill meeee! I have a family and a daughter about your age maybe she even goes to the same school what school do you go to she's a level 2 and is just…!" _Click._

The man's verbalized stream of consciousness was abruptly halted when his entire weight plummeted down like someone had hit the off switch on the #1's vector control—the electrode?! The white-haired monster loomed above him now, but there was a shocked expression on his face, lips slightly parted. Before anyone could react, he dove to the side and grabbed the gun off the dead man who had greeted him at the door with it. But he was losing his inhibitions and fast…

The man had been holding something within his pocket and now withdrew what looked like a remote control. Behind his glasses was a narrowed and dangerous look. It seemed the remote communicated with the old-looking machine in the corner. An AIM jammer—?! _Shit_!

Even though Accelerator was familiar with the modern AIM jammers (which usually appeared more like nets), that didn't mean something like this wasn't still able to output the special EM signals necessary to throw a wrench in AIM diffusion fields and the signal of his electrode. It would likely have a similar effect to if he were underground. And the device was probably only active within a certain distance from it, but he couldn't determine the distance without first testing the boundaries. He'd guess it was at least covering the entire building. In response to it, his electrode was going in and out, flickering like a flame about to be extinguished...

"Now foreigner remove markings!"

 _Fuck._ He squinted, trying to unpiece and calculate exactly what was happening. His hand was shaking where he held the gun, but he took aim to take out the knee of the man he had been threatening who was now yelling words he wasn't able to grasp the meaning of. The man screamed out when the bullet hit him, collapsing. And for a moment, Accelerator was confused by the agony in his voice. _...Why..._ Then he realized his finger was pressed down on the trigger and he was already calculating the trajectory of a separate bullet flying towards him so as to deflect it. _Reach. Reach before...!_ He had to move.

The gunshot stammered in his ears as if he were just hearing it being fired. These flashes of genius were stringing apart his mind. In one moment, he knew everything, and in another, he had lost it all. Before he could react, a cold, yet smoldering ball of fire buried itself into his side without tearing through into the wall behind him.

"Ghhrbb!?" he dropped the gun, but quickly picked it up and rolled off to the side, freezing pain activating his muscles on instinct alone. His calculation ability came back for a breath. He had been shot. Was this what it felt like? No vitals had been hit, but it was enough to make him feel like he was scrambling underwater. He tried to control his blood flow and was able to initially stop it from leaking everywhere, but then the electrode signal sizzled out once again and he forgot all about it. Why couldn't he move his left arm? He slipped in the blood getting up and listed to the side against the wall, confused, but not even sure why. Why couldn't he move right—why did it hurt?

"Go prepare _them_."

In response, the man with the papers slithered away up the stairs where the light footsteps had sounded earlier. Accelerator tried controlling the bleeding again, but it was like working with a shorted wire. His control was thrown out the window too. He'd end up rupturing his veins. Dropping the attempt, he used what precious time he had to launch himself across the room, where he ended up sending the man with the remote flying into the other who was still grabbing his knee and writhing on the ground. A disgusting thud and crack was heard, but he couldn't figure out what it was from and collapsed onto his knees, staring mindlessly at where he had just thrown the man.

The remote. He had been trying to go for the remote. The man started to get up…

"Leader!"

"I'm fine. The jammer is doing its job. That should have been worse."

Accelerator was on his feet again and lunged for them, eyes trained now. A terrible snap came from his right ankle. Something broke. His control! He lapsed in calculating the impact of his increased kinetic momentum. He was able to realize that, but it kept shorting out. He was flying forward too fast—he tried to slow it, but instead… the floor behind him collapsed into its foundation, shaking the old building to its core. The vectors touching him went out of control, amplified. Still, he tried to reach for the remote with wild eyes.

" **SHOOT HIM!** " The sound of the man's voice was as though it was through a megaphone. Accelerator's eardrums snapped and began ringing, fingertips just about to reach the remote.

The gun fired off again, but the swell of his vector control decimated the bullet on impact, deflecting it so violently that the metal itself imploded and disintegrated into dust. Their shocked expressions only fed him. He grabbed for the remote as the man pulled it away, but then lost all motor functions, falling to a heap on the ground. He would have been fuming, but when he landed, every bit of understanding went out the open door.

* * *

A young girl with short, chestnut hair in a ponytail, wearing all-black, tight leggings, jean shorts, and a sweater appeared in the doorway. Her golden eyes were fierce, alert, and scanning every inch of what was inside. Her thighs were accentuated and sheer as her boots clapped against the busted wood floor boards. Small zaps of electricity danced around her almost in song, bouncing outwards and lifting up the tips of her bangs. Time to save the children!

A shock of white and red immediately entered her line of vision, filling her with the feelings of her nightmares from the past. Utter defeat. The taste of blood and gravel. The sound of her own railgun blast passing just beside her ear. Unlike that night, she did not hear that monster's laughter—the look in his eyes from the ground was entirely different. He looked like another person, even despite still being a monster. His red eyes were dulled as he way-too-slowly seemed to notice her presence. They widened slightly in the surprise she was also feeling herself. The sight of blood and the dead man at her feet reminded her of the clones and victimized the enemy for just a moment in her mind—but there was blood also coming from _him_. So... he could feel pain? Its presence reminded her that he was still human _somehow_. If he was still human, that meant she could use language to try and communicate with him—maybe even reason with him. So no one else had to die. Would it be possible?

She had forgotten entirely why she had come there.

The man with the glasses who held the remote was about to shoot an incapacitated Accelerator, but turned to point the gun at the new threat. He didn't hesitate when he pulled the trigger.

A body dropped to the ground.

Something shattered.

Mikoto stood there gawking, Accelerator on his feet right in front of her. The man with the gunshot wound to the knee passed out and had fallen to the ground. The window above them was broken by the reflected bullet, which had been meant for Mikoto, but looked like it could have just as easily been able to take out Academy City's #1. An October zephyr blew in.

 _Had he just…?!_ She cupped a hand over her mouth briefly as the man cocked the gun for another go. _...saved her?!_ Accelerator's back didn't look steady. A bolt of electricity went wild out of her and scurried across the ground. She sometimes matched power with emotion, but this wasn't something she had initiated. It was almost as if it had a mind of its own… She looked around the room, saw the remote in the man's hand, saw the machine in the corner, heard an inaudibly low buzz of an...AIM jammer(?), saw a device around Accelerator's neck with wires attached to his head. She couldn't tell what that was per say, but she knew she had to destroy the machine in the corner faster than a bullet. What was faster than a bullet, you ask?

_Bang._

In an instant—probably a little more haphazard than she would have liked, all the stray iron and steel in the room slammed into a single point and was jolted straight at the AIM jammer. _Please take care of the bullet_ , she prayed to the #1, silently shocked she was even depending on a murderer like him to help the situation. The ancient AIM jammer exploded into a million pieces, scattering parts all over the room.

The bullet nearly reached her, but with a blur, flew backwards, straight into the barrel of the gun whilst it came, shattering it in the man's hand. He let out a yell, pieces clattering to the ground with him as he dropped, unconscious. Accelerator's figure came into focus, bent slightly to the opposite side he usually leaned. His ankle was 100% broken. He wasn't sure he'd be able to walk in normal mode. It was past 5 minutes. To top it off, the Original was here, and he would have to hide her involvement from GROUP, lest he find out what happened when he 'ran into someone he knew.'

"The hell are you doing here, third rate?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Well?"

"You first." She crossed her arms and eyed up the AIM jammer. What was a small level zero force doing with that piece of history? This had to be much bigger. And what was going on upstairs? She looked back and...Accelerator was already on his way up the steps.

"Hey wait," she stammered after him, catching up, "you look like hell should you really be…" Why should she care about a heartless murderer anyway? She shrugged and followed behind him. "Just don't fall back or you'll hit me," she growled.

"Do you ever shut up?" He glared back at her and stopped short so she ran right into him. Out of habit, he used the tone of voice he usually used when speaking with Last Order. "They're going to hear you."

Wh-wh-what was that look?! She had never seen that kind of expression on his face. It was softened and...sane? She blinked in horror at who she thought he was versus what she was currently witnessing. Save for the ever-present glare, he looked nothing like she remembered. What so drastically happened between then and now?

But that was a question for another time, and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear the answer, anyway.

When they reached the top of the stairs, only a blank hallway met them, filled with darkness and nothing more. It was quiet, too quiet. Mikoto was just about to open her mouth to fill it when Accelerator held up a hand, looking back just briefly at her, red eyes catching the dimness. She pursed her lips together and bit her tongue, resisting the urge to throw him down the stairs and just do this her own way. Who died and made him king anywa—? The thought stopped dead in its tracks—flashes of that night suddenly chiseling away her vision of the present. Her heart started slamming against her rib cage in shock and horror. She was standing this close to a murderer who killed ten thousand versions of herself. She was just another one of those blips that didn't matter if he tore off a leg—that didn't matter if he snuffed it out at the flick of a wrist. And yet—and despite the rush muffling her ears and the bile rising in her throat, this felt so entirely different.

Oblivious, in a way, to what was happening behind him, Accelerator was keyed into sounds coming from elsewhere in the orphanage. Focusing intently, he amplified the sound vectors, but was confused as to the feedback he was getting versus the visuals he was seeing. They didn't match up. This concerned him, especially because of the level of intricacy in the delegation of processing power between regulating his blood flow around the gunshot, keeping weight off his ankle, giving extra attention to his right leg, and trying to discern why the hallway was empty when he was hearing five heartbeats, not including their own.

"Hey," he whispered harshly, nudging the girl behind him who snapped out of her own thoughts and gave him a disgusted look in response, "do you see anything?"

"What do you mean, ' _see anything_ '? I'm seeing exactly what you're seeing. A whole lotta nothing. Let's search the rooms and go. I don't want to spend any more time with you than I have to." She wanted to ask him questions—demand answers, but for the time being, she forced herself to hold back, pushing past him.

"Tch." He shrugged and followed closely behind, latching onto the heartbeats and trying to perform the necessary calculations to determine their precise locations. To him, it almost seemed like they were coming from just a few feet away. While the complexity of the problem was buzzing in the background of his psyche, he heard footsteps approaching and froze.

Mikoto noticed this and looked back at him in question. A beat passed and something silent and unseen suddenly whizzed right by where Mikoto would have been had she continued on her way, burying itself into the side wall. She peddled backwards slowly. Was that...a bullet?

In response, she let electricity spring out of her, stringing the walls and creating a kind of blue candle light. It flickered across her chestnut eyes, but didn't help to locate the source. Instead, it seemed to ruffle the edges of her vision like there was some kind of interference in her sight. Confused, she blinked and wheeled around to Accelerator who had an alien expression—it looked like he had just seen a ghost. She followed his gaze, expecting the worst, but there was nothing there at all(?).

Her pearly hands. Her smooth, unmarred skin. Her light hair so pristine, brushing carelessly against her chin. A faint, natural scent coming from her. It was the same. Her slender fingers were reaching out, grasping at nothing. The goggles sitting firm atop her head. Eyes emotionless—not even cold or calculating. She aimed the gun in her hand again and pulled the trigger, but there was no sound.

Accelerator was biting his lip to keep the breath from leaking out of his body—his focus just tenaciously holding on enough to keep him upright. There was a clone—a Misaka standing right in front of him—firing at him again. The bullet harmlessly reflected into the opposing wall. He raised an eyebrow with a growl and took a few steps forward towards her. He didn't have time to waste playing games with a malfunctioning brat on the wrong side. Where was Last Order when he needed her?

"Ahn? Stop fucking around. What are you doing here?" He felt so tame it made him want to turn off his electrode and just let her shoot him. When he got closer, another Misaka suddenly emerged from behind her. She, too, raised a gun at him. And then another. Soon, there were five. Well, that explained the heartbeats. He spun around to ask if 'the Original' knew anything about why they were here of all places—if they had followed her there, but the third-string was nowhere to be seen…

Mikoto was watching Accelerator when the floor beneath her caved in. She let out a yelp, but the oblivious, white-haired murderer didn't even turn around for her. What...was she even expecting to be saved by a monster like him? He was probably happy to be rid of her. No one would be coming to save her. She was on her own, and she liked it like that anyway, even if it was positively terrifying. Mikoto plummeted downwards further than what felt like a floor, trying beyond all reason to understand why her static electricity wasn't helping to slow her fall at all. She landed in the dark, fumbling around to try and see why or how she didn't end up on the floor from which they had come. Instead, it seemed like it was a basement of some kind. A weirdly familiar one. Damp. Wait, that felt like…

Where the hell did she go? Accelerator whipped back around to the clones with an expressionless exterior and a chill playing on his lips. Inwardly though, all hell was breaking loose, but he couldn't let them know that. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he nonchalantly leaned forward, transferring some weight to the wall next to him so he'd have less to deal with.

"So?"

"Misaka is here in response to the control tower's kill order, says Misaka as Misaka holds up the gun and squeezes the trigger, knowing the bullet will only be reflected back."

"Kill order?" He shifted his weight from the broken ankle to his faulty right side, slowing the vectors of his pain receptors almost to a stop.

"The control tower has requested your death, Misaka relays while Misaka prepares herself to go on the offensive."

"...Last Order?" He barely choked the name out, not able to fully hide the shock in his voice or his pupils from shrinking. Since the September 30th mess with that bastard, Kihara, had she changed her opinion of him? Had that brat _finally_ realized her mistake in accepting him? ... _had she lost her memories_? The last question was a false, weak hope, whispering in the back of his head. It nearly crumbled out of him before falling through his mind like trying to hold onto sand. There was just no basis for it. The only thing that made any sense was what he had always expected in the first place. It was who he was: a villain through and through and no one would forgive him—he didn't deserve it.

"That is what the control tower is called, Misaka confirms while Misaka wonders when the other Misakas will arrive and creates a distraction." She pulled the trigger the rest of the way and fired.

There was a moment of hesitation, but Accelerator was self-aware. He knew that the structure of his Personal Reality had changed so drastically over the past few months. He also knew that he could never hurt another Misaka as long as he lived—or let anyone else for that matter. Well, it seemed that day was coming too soon. Last Order wanted him dead—had ordered the army of clones after him—an army that, had he killed, would've allowed him to achieve level six. The irony was grand. He could laugh out loud!

Would he just roll over and die then—let them kill him right here? It was only what he deserved. If he could die more than once, he should do that too. If Last Order really wanted him dead… then he'd at least make sure he went out with a bang. Maybe he'd even die before they shot him. That would be a riot.

Accelerator reached a hand up to turn off his electrode, but the bullet was already deflected—he made sure it was away from the Misakas. The clone that had been speaking suddenly folded to the ground with a gasp. Crimson started leaking out of her—throat gurgling and heart grinding. The sounds of death permeated his sense of reality, twisting it into something unrecognizable. His mouth dropped open, pupils shivering further into tiny dots. H-how—he didn't!? The pool of blood rapidly approached the tip of his shoe, reminding him of the feeling of the wet grass. It soaked in. He started shaking uncontrollably, backing up until his shoulder blades pressed into the wall by the stairs where they had come up. He was having trouble breathing—like the air was thinning—like it was being sucked out of the room by a vacuum.

"You killed her, says Misaka as Misaka determines you're still a murderer and relays it to all the other Misakas as well as to the control tower."

"Murderer, Misaka concludes."

"Murderer, Misaka also agrees."

The white-haired monster slid down the wall, unable to focus enough to keep up his calculations, wondering in this inception why the MISAKA network was even still doing the calculations for him to begin with—the calculations that had been used to kill her just then… None of it made any fucking sense—he wasn't even sure what was happening anymore. All he knew was that he had killed another Misaka. He reached a quivering hand up and turned off his electrode, knowing fully well that doing so was equivalent to digging his own grave, but why should he care?

* * *

It was a body part under her hand, slightly warm. She was laying atop a mound of lifeless mannequins—she could barely make out the silhouettes—barely see where one part began and where another ended. They were skin tone pieces that, when connected, became a body—a shell to house something she could not even fathom. A clone. A false her. A fake duplicate of herself. The mouths in various places opened, revealing nothing living inside. They were gaping at her without saliva. They were opening further and further without any screams—without any words. No sound. There was nothing to say—nothing to even say, for they were created because of her...and they were killed because of her. And she sat atop the throne of body parts, surrounded by her own DNA, and yet, it had nothing to do with her. The faces that were her own were not hers—the faces that kept widening and spreading out and somehow getting closer... They wanted her—they wanted to become her—they wanted to be real, but a clone could never be a real person, could they? That was what Accelerator must have thought. They were just parts—just pieces of flesh that could speak. Windup-dolls. They looked and felt real, but they weren't. They were fake hers. And yet? They weren't at all. All this time, Mikoto believed they were real. They had life. They were not lifeless. They were not like these body parts surrounding her, trying to strangle her like waves drowning her in the deep pits of despair. They had their own lives—they had their own life that wasn't a part of hers. Their own smiles.

She gasped for air, struggling to the top. It was like those mouths opening and opening were sucking the air out of her lungs. She couldn't breathe. Steal-gripped hands were wrapping around her throat, smothering, smothering. She wanted to scream that they were real—that they had their own place in the world, and it didn't matter what they were created for anymore. They could be people. Accelerator had killed _people_. And that was why she hated _him._

Her DNA map had not been used to cure muscular dystrophy, no—it had not been used to heal people. It had been used to create _them_ —to help the #1 achieve ultimate, invincible power. She was _TRICKED_ —they were both tricked. But it was just another excuse of hers that couldn't wipe away the stain of ten thousand lives lost. Their blood and their birth would always be on her hands.

The sides of her vision were going, but she could barely notice it, for the darkness in the basement was already so thick. She struggled against the grip, wheezing out breaths from beneath the squeeze of digging nails and contracting fingers. Her desire to live flurried through her like snowflakes in a blizzard, about to melt—about to freeze, yet still holding its form and luster. The electricity burst from her body then, channeling down anything that touched her. It slithered and singed the flesh and, at the same time, ruptured everything in her line of vision. White noise—her broken TV eyes. Mikoto hadn't arrived at some philosophical end, hadn't blamed herself enough to give up or enough to fuel her desire to live. She just knew she had to win.

A voice screamed and the hands slipped from her neck. The darkness from the basement dripped away like someone had dumped a bucket of paint over top of reality. She blinked furiously, pulling herself to sit, feeling around like a blind person to where the body parts had lifted her up. Nothing but Persian carpet. She was in the hallway, up the stairs. She had never fallen. Around her neck was tender, bruised. She had nearly been strangled not by the mannequins, but by a little boy who was bent over his smoking hands.

"An illusion…" she muttered, though it hurt.

Mikoto scrambled to her feet, pinching herself while looking around wildly. Three other kids were there holding guns at… she followed their line of sight and saw Accelerator pressed against the wall. She had a moment to second guess her instinct—the gun-wielding children had all paused likely because of her disruption. The little boy who had tried to strangle her was holding back sobs and trying to do something with his charred hands. She rolled her eyes and approached him.

"Put aloe on it—you're not going to lose them or anything. You're lucky you didn't really piss me off! Now, go call off your friends and stop with your psychokinesis illusion crap." Even though she almost died, putting on a tough front just made sense to her in this kind of situation.

"It wasn't m-me. I d-didn't know," the boy stammered, voice quivering. "My hands turn super strong—I was trying to hold on, not that… S-she isn't doing it by choice."

Mikoto towered over him with her hands on her hips, eyes alight.

"Who isn't?" Mikoto locked her eyes on one of the girls who had turned back to Accelerator with a gun and was slowly approaching him. Was it her that was creating the illusions? If it wasn't the boy doing it, then was the #1...seeing an illusion?!

"Stop this immediately!" She grabbed the boy by the collar and swung him around to the others. At the same time, she saw Accelerator touch the choker on his neck and press a button. Did he just—turn it off!? He was just going to let them kill him?! Or was this also an illusion because she wasn't believing what she was seeing.

The kid in her grip yelled out and started crying. At the same time, a wheelchair suddenly appeared in front of her. In it was a girl attached to a weird machine that was making air noises and various beeps and had all sorts of unidentifiable things attached to it, including an IV and various other bags that were draining into her. Instantaneous sympathy and anger raged through her. The girl had appeared out of nowhere. So this was an illusion—was she even really seeing her?

"It's me." A breathy voice came and the rest of the room, including Accelerator faded away instantly. This time, the bodies weren't just mannequins; they were Sisters—real bloodied, battered body parts. Dead eyeballs blank and foggy—the rattle of ailing hearts trying to beat life back into a body composed of chemicals and calculations. Lives that hung in the balance already had been wasted and dumped here like garbage. Her stomach churned—heartbeat rushing through her ears, but Mikoto already knew this wasn't real. Her suspicion was bleeding into her subconscious, and yet...the illusion didn't dissipate. Much unlike Shouhou Misaki's ability, knowing about it didn't take its power away. She started to shake again, repeating in her head that it wasn't real. It wasn't real. **It wasn't real**. And unlike all her nightmares and waking up in cold sweats, this _felt_ real.

Anyone would fall for this.

The #1 would fall for this.

She took a breath and focused on her brain, felt her own body's bio-electricity, and did not trust herself to manipulate it. She knew that her power had far too much output. If she added to the signals assailing her brain—manipulated her sensory receptors, she could very easily damage her nerves or sever her vision all together. The risk of going blind did not outweigh her own suffering at seeing this. She'd look at fake dead Sisters all day if she had to, but well, she didn't have the time for that with the #1 about to be taken out.

She clenched her fist, not really sure why Accelerator with a gun to his head pissed her off so much. She wondered what illusion he was seeing, but it wasn't that hard to guess, _maybe_. It bubbled up a deep rage from within her—something she had felt only once before when she had seen him on the monitors, stalking someone that looked just like her through the darkness. When he had killed her and she watched, powerless. Was he his own nightmare too? What lies had they fed him to make him believe or even want to be a level 6? And what was this?! What were these bodies—from her memories—from his? It made her blind with anger, for any Misaka death, real or fake, was not acceptable. Not. At. All.

The electricity channeled through her outward. She had no real aim, but everywhere all at once. The shocks of light flamed and slithered through the air like a white board eraser, taking out chunks of what she saw. Hands of the sisters all reached up at once, grabbing with missing fingers and bony, half decayed digits. They rubbed like dried leaves against her skin, the electric rummaging through their fake bodies until nothing was left of them.

Again, they formed, more contorted than before. Like zombies. They walked towards her, deadpan voices like a cacophony in her eardrums, beating down her mental fortitude. She rose back up, never stopping the violent release of voltage that had started veering the illusion away. Sparks started bursting from the metal on the wheelchair, letting her know that part was real at least. The girl in it?

Focusing so hard, she could barely get the words out, Mikoto took a fierce step towards her, ground jolting with her step.

"Who are you—why are you doing this?"

"I don't have a choice," the voice answered. In response, the illusion seemed to wash over Mikoto again, gripping her with spiny fingers, nails digging—not digging into the skin on her arms and through her leggings. The sounds of nails against the fabric of her jean shorts. The smell of death she shouldn't be as familiar with as she was—irony, thick, and helpless.

"You always have a choice!" Mikoto rang out, waving her electric-filled hands through the air as if it would help make it go away—make the burning in her throat and the rage in her soul go down.

"I can't control it." The figure in the chair looked sad now. "I can only speak in this illusion and those machines you can see are what's keeping just my ability and brain functioning. I'm not even really alive." She wheeled closer, over the bodies, crushing skulls under the wheels. Bone cracking, squeezing out thick streams of blood. It was all Mikoto could do to keep the electric bursting from her without vomit joining in too. **It wasn't real**.

"Wh-what. Why—how are you doing this then?"

"All of us were orphaned here from outside the city. We were then experimented on and I lost function of my body. The others have defects of their own. When they were done using us, the scientists transported us here in exchange for money."

"You were sold?"

She nodded and Takuto came over to hold her hand. She smiled, but it seemed sad and overlaid—like special effects seen in movies. Even her hand seemed to go through Takuto's, otherwise it probably would have hurt his seared hands. She continued,

"It was perfect for a while. But then they started making us do bad things, using my ability to trick everyone. Hurt people. Ame found paperwork one night and saw they had a plan to dump AIM field diffusing chemicals into Academy City's water supply."

Yep. That was the rumor. Mikoto frowned and waved a hand towards the girl. Like a ghost, it passed through her—felt like touching cold mist. It was exactly what she would have imagined a ghost to feel like. So the illusion must be extracted from her own imagination…? This visage was from _her_ mind? All this girl could do was be the trigger for Mikoto's worst nightmares? These images were conjured from Mikoto—herself—her own creation. That head being crushed was what she had imagined the villainous version of Accelerator doing to the deceased clones during the experiments. This was what she had seen in her mind's eye. This, based on her knowledge of death and torture, was the epitome of suffering she thought the clones—versions of herself—had gone through at his hand. Unwitnessed pain and suffering—haunting death and gore that may not have ever even come to pass. In her own mind, Mikoto was her own worst enemy—she was her own villain. And so to win this battle, she also had to defeat herself.

The electricity surged out of her and brought the hallway back, leaving char marks all over the walls. The smell of burning wires filled the tight space. There were no longer any bodies. In her mind, only what she had seen in the past actually happened—and even that, had been out of her control. Here and now, she was in charge. Here and now, she would put an end to these illusions because no one, not these children—not even Accelerator—deserved to be dragged down by the darkside.

"How do they force out your ability? I'm going to put an end to this." She turned her eyes back to the wheelchair where a staticy figure faced her. Was it those machines that were controlling her or just keeping her alive? She could hack them.

"With a program. I'm no longer myself; I am just my ability...or what it remembers of me. It can make you see your worst fear or make you see something mundane even while committing an atrocity. I only have slight control over 'consciousness' so I am able to speak and show form."

"A program…" she trailed off. But with the illusion now gone and reality in motion, Mikoto noticed the three others down the hall pointing their guns at Accelerator, an almost joyful light in their eyes—like they were playing a game as they went to pull the triggers. What felt like nearly an hour had passed by in seconds.

"W-wait. Stop!" Mikoto tried calling out to them, but no heads turned.

"They can't see or hear us. They're being shown something entirely different than reality. Even I don't know what they're seeing."

"How do I stop this program?" She barked, turning her head back to the wheelchair with fiery eyes.

"Kill me," the illusion whispered, " _please_. I'm not me...I've been overwritten—just end it."

...a clone? Was she a clone of her real self—a replicated program of what they needed her to be? Mikoto started shaking, her emotions bucking inside her and disturbing the surface. Her hair started standing on end. Was this what it was like...when they had begun the experiments—was this like what they had told Accelerator to do? No. **No.** She would save this girl.

"I don't want any more suffering," Takuto cried out, tears streaming down his face. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Beg this stranger to essentially 'kill' his friend—that none of them could bring themselves to unplug. "Please make the program stop."

Without her illusions, the children couldn't be manipulated into doing those bad things anymore without even knowing they were doing it. Seeing and unseeing. How many horrible deeds had they committed under the veil of folding laundry? There were only glimpses of pain—fractured tears. The found papers. Takuto had begged her to not make him do any more, but she had no control over it. Ame had already broken down so much she rather see something fake than know what she was really doing. The other two were oblivious.

It wasn't the same as the experiments. It wasn't. **It wasn't.** Mind numb, Mikoto reached up her hands and let it out. The electricity neighed out of her, a guttural growl coming from her throat. She didn't want to. She tried hacking into the program—into the girl's brain, but its form started to break down as soon as she touched it, destroying itself instead of being changed. Whatever foundations of what made life—what made a person or determined an ESPer began chipping away. The more pieces that broke off, the more damage seeped in. Like melting glaciers in Antarctica, the form in the wheelchair was dying, even though Mikoto was trying to save her. Was death the only answer to keep going? ...had Accelerator thought that?

Tears spiked her eyes, teeth chattering, lips chapped. She looked up, hair waving out with sheer power as she tore everything out of herself to try and break into the program. But when a parasite had already grown so far into the source, separating them meant death for both. She learned that at a young age, but still… she was a level 5!

The wheel chair was suddenly empty, save for a shriveled, catatonic body with atrophic limbs listing to the side. It was like someone had dug up a body from the cemetery that was partially decomposed. Mikoto dry heaved over her shoulder, hearing—as if she hadn't heard anything real for the longest time—the sound of the machines wailing. Her electricity snuffed them off in the next moment. And then... silence. There was no goodbye. No heartfelt tears. She didn't even know the girl's name. That was it. ...s-she just killed someone? Was that a person?

* * *

It was an odd sensation to wait for the bullet that would end his life—it actually reminded Accelerator of the time when he was trying to save Last Order. And yet, somehow, just as quickly as the bullet would have entered his brain, the sister's guns clattered to the ground instead. Children's voices followed.

"Wh-what is this?!"

A shrill cry. "Eerhhh! Not again! Who did I kill?"

Accelerator blinked and all the Misakas were replaced by...three children. They were not the clones. They did not have access to the MISAKA network. They were just children. As the blood leaked out of him from his gunshot wound, he stared aghast for just a moment before flipping the switch to his electrode back on and stammering to his feet.

"FUCKING BRATS!" He growled, voice cracking through the brokenness of his mind that had thrown in the towel moments before. Last Order hadn't given up on him. It was a fucking illusion?! A fucking nightmare. What the fuck.

The children had scattered at this point. There was a wheelchair with a corpse in it. There was Mikoto looking like she'd just seen a ghost. And a boy with burned hands. Just what the hell was going on here. For once, the #1 had no inkling of an idea. What was this—fucking charades?! (He didn't know what that was or how it was played; he just knew that it involved a guessing game, and he didn't like being the one guessing).

Despite his reeling confusion, Accelerator gave himself a moment, eyes fixated at nothing in particular as he focused inwardly on the vectors in his body, trying to steer around the damage already there. If Last Order hadn't given up on him yet, then he couldn't give on himself yet either. He was an evil that deserved to be extinguished, but not at the hand of pipsqueak villains, and certainly not a rag-tag bunch of brats. But from what he could tell, they didn't have a clue as to what they had been doing to him. He didn't care what illusion they saw, but it sure as hell wasn't the same as his.

His eyes lazed over to the corpse in the wheelchair. Ah, so that must have been the ESPer that did this. She looked dead. And he'd seen enough corpses to tell. So many, in fact, that he was sick of it. The red-eyed ESPer forced a blank look—despite being unable to shake off the ordeal he had just gone through—and saw that Mikoto hadn't moved at all. He approached slowly at first and then more resolutely with a low, squeezed cackle. How uncharacteristic.

"You kill her?"

She turned, eyes gaping at what she had just done. The words made it real. In her mind, she really couldn't put her finger on it. She went in trying to save her, and came out having destroyed the program and disconnected the machines. Hacking and extracting was one thing, but prying apart a human mind from a series of codes was...unrealistic. Unbelievable. Impossible, _clearly_. She started slowly shaking her head, tears breaking out of her eyelids, unwarranted. She wildly looked up at the monster standing before her who shouldn't give a flying crap about anyone, let alone their enemy. Her teeth dug together like a shovel being slammed through rock.

Accelerator heard a beep and winced. The electrode. The time was running out. He consciously let the calculations for his reflection go lax...at the wrong moment.

Mikoto didn't seem to notice or care, her hands already working to grab the white monster's shoulders and slam him back into the wall behind her. She got through his reflection—eyes so ablaze, yet at the same time, appearing like two drowning pennies at the bottom of a wishing well, lost. Her voice shook, but erupted, volcanoing out of her to smother him in the lava he so deserved to drown in with her.

"Just _WHO_ are you?!" The yelling rubbed her throat raw even further, but she kept going without noticing. "I don't even recognize you. What do you care who lives and who dies!? You're a murderer. I've seen it with my own eyes—all their blood on your hands. ...And-and the project—the experiments weren't even real to begin with—level 6 wasn't even obtainable. I destroyed the facility—I saw with my own eyes their wasted lives—their lives were forfeit for nothing—for nothing...just like this was for nothing. I...I'm a monster too."

Accelerator's hand grabbed her wrist and peeled it off of him. He didn't like being touched. His narrowed eyes gleamed dangerously under the shadow of white bangs. ... _The experiments weren't real?_ He took a deep breath to calm his nerves from unleashing hell. _Level 6 wasn't even obtainable?_ What had he been doing then, taking out the trash?

"Aa, so you did kill her," Accelerator said calmly, pushing off from the wall so he was so close to her he could feel the heat wafting out of her tights, transitioning to him. He could taste the thermo vectors, innocent and naive. "So, I should thank you then."

Her eyes widened through the tears and she looked up, a few final drops falling out. She got angry again, growling, "No. Who would thank someone for killing someone?!"

"Mm~ well, let me tell you," he cooed with an odd twist in his voice, laced with something unreadable, "Messing with someone's mind isn't easy. That's how I got this." He fitted a thumb through the choker around his neck with a wry smile. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"Huuh?"

"That I rely on the MISAKA network to _think_." He had about ten minutes left. "With a time limit."

"I don't believe you. Why on earth would they let you access the MISAKA network after what you've done?"

"I'm paying back a huge debt. One that'll take more than a lifetime, and I don't care how I have to do it. I started with rebooting Last Order's brain—that's what I said, not easy, but that's what makes me the #1." He didn't care about Mikoto's opinion, which was why he didn't really mind revealing something like this to the likes of her. On top of that, maybe she'd be less annoying.

Mikoto's other hand dropped off his shoulder and she stepped backwards, bewildered. "You saved someone? YOU?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, more focused now on the fact that he was running out of time.

"Who is Last Order?"

He looked up at her, red eyes slightly widened in some unfamiliar emotion. He was silent for a moment and then turned away with an exaggerated sigh. "She's just a brat."

"Ah, I see. So you do have human emotions."

"Shut it, third-string. We still have an enemy to subdue."

"We, huh? I don't recall agreeing to work with you," Mikoto laughed scornfully, but didn't get any real rise out of him in response. Instead, Accelerator walked away from her, past the children that were huddled together, and on his way, kicked away the guns with barely a touch. She listlessly stared after him. So Last Order, was it? She must be one of the Sisters, but Accelerator saved her life?

"Wait, 'an enemy to subdue?'" Mikoto followed after him slowly—cautiously as if a zombie Sister would jump out to eat her brains at any moment. She also watched him carefully, taking note that he had 1) gotten shot prior to her arrival, 2) was literally only able to operate normally via an electrode around his neck. What happened when the battery died? So did that mean he had a weakness? So many thoughts were flitting through her head, she could barely catch and grab a hold of one of them. But hey, didn't the #1 always have that effect? She scoffed, slightly horrified that she was growing fond of this different, realer version of him. He didn't seem like such a monster. He also made her feel like less of one.

A scream resounded from down the hall—the flutter of papers being scattered. A loud crack. The thud of a body.

"Relax, I didn't kill him."

Mikoto poked her head in, seeing first Accelerator standing there with a bored look. She followed his eyes from her to the body. Under the man were the papers that Takuto had mentioned. She bent down to them and began trying to sort them.

"Think we should ask them about these so we can try and locate where they are dumping the chemicals—you're here to stop that, right?" She half-expected him to laugh maniacally and turn on her, but none of the above happened. Instead he looked back at her with the slightest change in expression, his lips curving ever-so-slightly.

"You think I didn't get it out of him first?" It was easy. He tilted his head to the side and then opened one of the desk drawers in the room, digging through it. He needed to figure out a way to charge his battery. He began tearing apart the house, going through all the drawers and cabinets he could find. Oddly sparse, but he did find one thing he was looking for: a sewing kit. He'd have to do the next best thing to conserve power...

Having left the kids upstairs to their own devices, he found Mikoto in the kitchen and flopped languidly into one of the wooden chairs still standing. "How well can you sew?"

Immediately, she pictured her rumpled gekota stuffy that had gotten a tear in it. Her stitch work on it was messy and uneven, but it held together.

"Pretty good if I do say so myself." She placed her hands on her hips. Accelerator tossed her the sewing kit. Her eyes widened and dropped to the blood stain all over the side of his shirt. "You want me to…"

Accelerator lifted up his shirt and jammed a finger into the bullethole, but no blood came out of it. He then used the vectors from the bio-electricity in his body to magnetize the bullet and slowly draw it towards his finger. At the same time that the pain receptors increased movement, he slowed their responses to a stop, effectively numbing his body.

Mikoto had no idea what was going on, but the white-haired ESPer seemed extremely focused. She noted the serious look on his face and was again taken aback that he could put so much care and attentiveness into something, granted, it was for himself. _Still_. She reached for the sewing kit. The bullet followed his finger out of his body and fell onto the linoleum floor, leaving a splatter. Mikoto's head swam and she heard something ringing in her ears. Accelerator looked troubled for a minute and then glared up at her as if saying what-the-hell-are-you-looking-at.

"I just need you to seal it to stop the bleeding," he rasped. Even the #1 couldn't keep regulating his blood flow manually. It would eventually kill him. He tore off a paper towel with his teeth and started dabbing around his skin to clean the dried blood off.

Mikoto pulled out her phone and immediately started searching for YouTube videos on how to sew shut a bullet wound with a needle and thread. Her hand was shaking. There was so much pressure. Would he bleed out if she didn't do it right? Why did she even care?

"Tch, I thought you said you knew how? Gimme that."

"No, I'm going to do it. I just want to make sure."

"I don't need a damn amateur."

"Shut it." Mikoto hiked up his shirt further with one hand, the other opening the sewing kit. She touched the needle and let the heat of her electricity sterilize it, threaded it, and then began her work. It was so different and odd sticking a needle through skin than it was through fabric. And no blood? ...why was she helping him again?

When Mikoto finished, and only after she was done, did Accelerator finally look down at her work. There was a long moment of silence.

"Pink?" The word sounded like poison in his mouth. He let his shirt fall back down and rose a little shakily to his feet.

"Payback." Mikoto snickered and rose to her feet as well, haphazardly looking around to see if the kids had come downstairs to see the gory mess.

Accelerator raised a hand to his electrode and switched it back to normal mode, leaning heavily on the table using his right elbow...as casually as that could look.

"Let's tie them up and go. Should we take the kids with us? You know which facility they seized? When do they plan to…?"

So many questions. It was nice to know the brat (Last Order) didn't just naturally have a knack for it; she got it from _someone_. Pain was making its way in—now that his vector control was out of the picture. His veins felt like liquid fire—instantly light-headed. He sat back down, pressing his face into his hands to avoid passing out. Was he going into shock? Blood loss? He couldn't tell and didn't have the capacity to determine the answer. He covered his mouth with his hand and focused on breathing to slow his heart rate.

Luckily, Mikoto didn't turn back around from where she had been piecing through the cabinet for rope. Villains had to have rope. She pulled out a coil and began unraveling it, bending down to the men. Hands first. Then feet.

"What about your 'time limit'? What happens?"

Accelerator lifted his head like a wolf in headlights. He twisted around in the chair, feeling the stitching pull with a manglely snarl.

"I lose all motor function, speech, calculative abilities."

He grabbed some more paper towels and started dabbing again at where blood was oozing between the threads. Soon, they wouldn't be pink anymore. Mindlessly, he grabbed some tape he'd brought over and started tapping the paper towels to his skin. Makeshift. It would work until this mission was over.

"Oh," she paused, "how do you charge it?"

"With a charger."

"Obviously. I mean, do you have it with you?"

"It's not like charging your phone."

"Well, you should bring it with you. What happens when you're using more battery power in a fight?"

"Get off it."

She kept prodding, reminding him more and more of a certain someone. Seemed she hadn't lost her girlish curiosity that was likely infused into the very fabric of her DNA. There was no shaking it. Last Order was proof enough. It wasn't a bad thing either. It just pissed him off beyond all forms of measure. He should leave her here and be done with it, only, he didn't have much time left.

"Well, are you just going to sit there on your throne or are you going to help, #1?"

* * *

They finished tying up the men, many of whom needed some serious medical attention (not like either of them were concerned or anything). Mikoto rounded up the kids and told them to keep an eye on their keepers (my, how the tables had turned) until Anti-Skill arrived; it would be too dangerous to try and protect the orphans-turned-ESPers while taking out the other forces (whoever they were anyway). And Mikoto wasn't planning on calling Anti-Skill until the rest of them were all taken care of. Whispers on the wind traveled fast and if Anti-Skill showed up in the middle of it, people could get hurt (and they would be found out). She cracked her knuckles and wandered over the busted down door, frustrated that only half of her questions were being answered by the white-haired Sister-slayer. She'd get the rest out of him if it killed her.

Carefully navigating the debris, Accelerator caught up, leaning heavily on his crutch and in obvious pain. He forced a blank look to try and cover it up. Mikoto wasn't blind or stupid; she knew he had to be suffering, but in all honestly...it was comical. It painted him as a human in more ways than even she knew. He was dependent on a device to... _think_. He had been shot in the side and even needed help stitching it up from the likes of her. How desperate was he? Or maybe he didn't care in the same way she did. The part of her that only knew the monster from that nightmarish evening on the rails wanted to say 'good', but seeing him now, she _wanted_ to help him. No, she _could_ help him and it was odd to say the least.

"Ahn? What are you staring at."

"I just can't believe that you're the same person."

"Tch, they do say getting shot in the head can change your whole personality."

"That's not it. It's something else. It's like...like you see me. The real me, without looking down on me." She slowed her pace so they could walk side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder. The other ESPer pretended not to notice her close proximity.

"..."

"That night...why were you talking to her when you were supposed to just kill her?"

"Stop asking so many absurd questions. We're never going to get there at this rate."

"Was it because you wanted her to be afraid—was it because you wanted to prove to yourself that she was a real person?"

Accelerator stopped walking, his hand reaching up to his electrode. What was with all these prying girls who all had the same face?! "Do you _want_ to die?"

She stopped too and turned, a look so vast and serious in her eyes. "Tell me. I want to know."

An exaggerated sigh, "What does it matter? I killed all of them. Just shut up and hate me."

"Not all of them."

He started walking again, ignoring the rest of her banter. It was all he could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He wanted to just get this over with and be done with it, but another signal beep from his electrode warned him otherwise. His thoughts were crawling. He cursed under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." His steeled crimson eyes landed on her as his crutch continued to sink into the saturated grass. The wetness reminded him of blood again, leaking out of a once warm body as the heart struggled to keep pumping it through. His stomach flip flopped and he stopped walking, pain getting to him—everything getting to him. If he had been alone—well, it was worthless thinking of useless things like that. Mikoto finished a few steps, but ended up stopping next to him with an incredulous sooo-you-can-feel-pain look. Accelerator looked to the side and then back at her, thoughts flurrying chaotically until the words just fell out.

"What did you mean 'the experiments weren't real'?"

"The scientists were tricking you. There was no data collection. You'd never reach level 6 just by killing the sisters over and over again. They were using you."

If Kihara wasn't dead, he'd kill him again. His nails bit into his skin, teeth pressed so hard together no air came between them. His eyes were fierce, on fire—his mind more broken than ever, trying to piece it all together with a single puzzle piece that changed the whole damn picture into a grotesque glimpse of hell.

He started laughing insanely. It didn't even feel like it was coming from him, but it was. It twisted his mind up and rung out anything that made any sense. He couldn't stop—lost in the recesses of what truth felt like.

They had made him this way. They had taken his Personal Reality and contorted it into a falsity so real that anyone would believe it. Mikoto realized in that moment, she had never hated him. She had never hated Accelerator; she only hated what he had done. And had he done it by choice really—was she just fooling herself?

* * *

As the sun was rising, Mikoto filled Accelerator in on what she had found out about the Level 6 Shift Project the rest of the way to the water treatment facility. She couldn't tell exactly by the look in his eyes, but they seemed weighted down and heavy—like he had just taken on the world. He looked troubled by it. Was he planning on taking on the darkness alone or was he blaming himself for falling for it? The #1 fooled—fool him once, but fool him twice…? It seemed preposterous, but nobody knew how he had been raised or what he had been led to believe. Did he even have a family—a name of his own?

While these thoughts and questions nipped at her, Accelerator's silence grew vast and unnerving. She wondered if he would ever speak again, but once they made it within a few yards of the barbed wire fence and she pulled out wire cutters from her pack, he placed a pale, slender hand over hers to stop her. It looked like a girl's, she noted. Fragile even.

The other hand pressed the button on his electrode. 25 seconds. It had to be enough.

"Why sneak in? Let's draw them out like the ants they are. What better way than by blowing a hole in their little anthill?" He finished with a harsh laugh to hide his nerves and before she could react, the fence blew apart so violently that it cracked through the air when it broke the sound barrier, embedding itself and taking down a part of the building. At the flick of a finger. She gaped, never not surprised.

And just as predicted, men with the same gear and disposition as those who had been seen at the orphanage came crawling out carrying guns. Without hesitation, they started opening fire. Mikoto darted to the side for cover, but Accelerator was already there in front of her, the bullets reflecting and scattering. His eyes took her in, voice almost completely different than before—like he had shed his skin and out came a beast. The hair on her arms stood on end and a cold shiver ran through her body like earlier that night when she had first laid eyes on him. This was the same person she had just been speaking to?

"What's a-matter, third-string?" He cooed despite not having time to waste, "I could name a few ideas if you need some help...unless you _want_ to get riddled with holes?"

Ah, so he must be embarrassed...for shielding her? She stood up and brushed herself off, but immediately noticed something was wrong with him. A confused look splayed onto his face.

"What stumble guns have you?" Mikoto asked, but the words didn't seem to register with him. In his eyes, he had lost comprehension and that was scarier to her than the men reloading another volley.

The red light on his choker was flashing and dimming. He had wobbled down to his knees, hands flat on the gravel, leaving little divots in his skin. Mikoto's heart caught in her throat at the sight of the #1, down as easily as flicking a switch. _The battery_.

"Sh-shit." His voice was squeezed out like he had more to say, but nothing else breached conception.

"Shit," Mikoto echoed, and faster than she could think, grabbed Accelerator's arm to hoist him out of the direct range of fire (where he seemed to always enjoy being). She dragged him past where the fence had been and to a door of the closest building in the facility. She touched the handle and disconnected the electric lock on the door, practically barging in without any sort of plan. A single window shed some dusty light throughout the space, illuminating its contents. It appeared to just be a supply holding with various chemicals, suits, masks—wait! Was this where they were keeping their supply?! Despite her situation, Mikoto smirked villainously in the dim lighting, for she had just happened upon their main objective. No chemicals, no plan. It paid off having some luck now and again! She just had to destroy it; but first she had another situation on her hands…

Mikoto locked the door behind them using a different frequency that would make it harder to crack, but it wouldn't be too long before the men caught up and started trying to break down the door. She had minutes at the most, but she didn't regret not leaving Accelerator there. Despite what he had done, no one deserved to be abandoned. This monster would get a taste for it...what it was like to be saved by her.

That was just it though. _How_ would she do it? The #3 dragged the #1 over to the far corner out of range of the door just in case they got in, it would spare them a couple seconds and she could use some of the shelves for cover. She bent down to him and he stared back at her with those unnatural red eyes. She saw trepidation deep within them, but no sign of further thought. Mikoto wondered what it was like to run out of the ability to think. It had to be like... dying. It had to be... terrifying. And in the middle of a firefight? It made her wonder if that was why he hadn't insisted she stay behind with the kids—no push-back? Maybe he knew this would happen, but he hadn't said anything about it. Maybe he just didn't know how to. Regardless, he had wasted too much time, and Mikoto knew that it had to do with the stitches she had sewn into him. She didn't have any medical experience, but she had to be an idiot not to notice that without them, he would have bled out within minutes.

Accerator's eyes were locked with hers. She held him there tightly with just her gaze. He did not seem to know or understand where they were, but she could see that behind his confusion he was functioning on some kind of instinct. His hand reached up and, at first, she was nervous, thinking that maybe he had stopped recognizing who she was and was going to try and resist—as if he could forget her face—but then, she realized his fingertip lightly brushed the bruises on her neck. His fingers were freezing cold, exuding a shiver throughout her whole body. It was a touch that could kill. This time, however, it was something else—she wasn't sure. She knew he wouldn't be able to understand her, so she tried telling him with a look. She'd get them out of there.

* * *

Though Accelerator could not draw conclusions, he recognized a few things at the surface level. For one, he was not dead. It didn't mean he was alive to finish the job—just simply that he was here breathing. His body function was minimal, but when his eyes drifted to the black and blue marks on Mikoto's neck, his hand acted on reflex. He did not know why. He also did not realize they were bruises, only that they didn't belong. Further past that string of thought, he had no idea what had caused it to form there. Moments later or seconds—he couldn't tell because he couldn't count—the girl whose face he could never forget finally looked away. When she did, he immediately felt lost. His hand fell limply back down. He was registering a sharp jagged feeling in his side, somehow he knew it was pain, but it stole his focus away. He shut his eyes. When he did, he felt hands pressed to his head. He opened his eyes again, dulled with lack of computation and anemia. He shut them again, unable to determine anything from it.

Suddenly, there was a sensation—like familiar fuzz traveling through his head. It was more intense than anything he remembered feeling. It sent him further into a daze at first. _What is this?_ A question. _Electricity._ A conclusion. His eyes snapped open and the entire room was flashing with neon light. It came from her fingertips and through his skull. His clenched teeth were vibrating and he had enough realization to know he was being electrocuted and that he was going to turn into fried chicken if this shit kept up. _What the hell is she doing?!_

"What the he—" He bit his tongue. "FFFF!"

"Charge it!"

Seizing control of the vectors with messy half-calculations, Accelerator, the #1 ESPer in Academy city, channeled the #3's electricity directly and as meticulously as he could with minute computation ability into the battery of his electrode. It was risky, but instantaneously, he noticed improvement in his calculative ability as the electrode sparked to life, connecting to the MISAKA network. Accelerator corrected his calculations within nanoseconds so as to not overload the battery or his brain. Still, some damage had to have been done—to the device...to _him_. Mikoto's level 5 electricity was being injected into him, jolting throughout his entire body. His internal organs could easily cease functioning. His heartbeat was irregular. He could barely breathe. All of this, he was controlling internally. Externally, it looked like he was in an electric chair—a villain getting the death penalty he finally deserved.

Accelerator had to segment out the excess electricity ravaging his body to avoid the shutdown of his organs and/or going into cardiac arrest—he didn't want to find out which. The delegated electricity was purged from him with such control it made him look like a level 5 electromaster too, only, he was simply controlling their vectors—their direction and their acceleration. In fact, it seemed he was needlessly increasing the electricity's acceleration as well, but those weren't the only vectors of his concern. Accelerator also had to convert the heat that was being generated on the surface of his skin back into the electricity he was purging from his body to avoid going up in smoke himself. All of these preexisting vectors combined had joined together to create an electric plasma twelve times hotter than the surface of the sun—essentially bolts of lightning all held in stasis until released to a few specific points in the room. The air in which the bolts traveled ionized around them, shattering the very space in the room. Their ear drums would have burst if not for Accelerator also seizing hold over the sound vectors and silencing them. A low rumble still sounded, reverberating through the air. The window cracked, but did not shatter. Accelerator frowned—a small error in his haphazard calculations whilst his consciousness was being torn in many directions during electrocution… Not everyone could be perfect, not even the #1.

The bolts had struck their intended targets—in their wake, bubbling puddles of melted plastic, evaporated chemicals and noxious fumes, as well as anything else in the makeup of the AIM field diffusing chemicals that were being stored in an unguarded, unmanned supply holding. _...and they called themselves villains_. It was sad, really. Yet, in his calculations, he had factored in that the window would break, yet it had not. The air filled instantaneously with the deadly evaporated gases. Only a few seconds had passed.

"Break that window or we'll all be dead." Accelerator's voice shook. Mikoto took her eyes off him and looked up at the high window and the thick plumes of smoke collecting in the ray of natural light. Still releasing electricity into the #1 being redirected into the battery to charge it with one hand, she used her only free hand to reach and grab a plastic cap off the shelf right in front of them. With her natural athletic ability alone, she chucked it at the window. It bounced off. Nothing else left to grab, she held her breath and quickly kicked off her shoe, picked it up with one hand, and threw it like she was pitching at the end of the fourth quarter to break the tie. Instead, she broke the window, fresh air pooling in all too slowly. A small breeze. It was enough.

The #1 ESPer prone on the dusty floor in Mikoto's grasp turned his eyes to the window, his vision shaking, yet still able to see the calculations in the air pressure, wind, and velocity. He was able to embellish it, increasing its acceleration into a powerful gale. The room, fumes and all, was whipped around like a mini tornado—shelves fell over, papers swept away, cobwebs broke. The air cleared with a collective sigh of relief.

* * *

Commotion was sounding outside the door. At first, it was muffled, coming in waves of louder—almost distinguishable words. Then, ringing. Moments later, there was banging a certain distance away. His eyes cracked open to disarray. There was a tense pressure gripping his head behind his eyes that was all too familiar. He realized through the somehow blinding light of the dim room that it was a high-grade migraine of the worst caliber. He went to push himself up on his hands, realizing his head had been lying on something warm. Blinking out the blurs and blind spots in his vision, he gathered his devices enough to focus. Mikoto's lap.

What form of apocalypse was this?

He dragged himself up and stared at her wobbly visage with an irritated look on his face, like all of this was her fault—that he had been caught unconscious on her lap. He didn't even recall losing it in the first place. What had…

The thought trailed off when he saw her expression. In her eyes was a look Last Order often had at his bedside. With just that look, everything else was silenced. He reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose as if the pressure there could ease the taiko drumming on his brain's nerve endings.

She spoke quietly, "It's no wonder you have a headache," and laughed weakly.

"..." Accelerator raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the shelf, shutting his aching eyes. At the motion, his stomach churned up into his throat. _So no movement. Noted_.

"They're trying to break the door down now…"

He cracked an eye and looked at her, reaching up to his electrode to make sure it was intact and in normal mode. It was. He had at least had the reserves to switch it back.

"I say we go out there and take them down before Anti-Skill gets here."

"Anti-Skill?" Accelerator sat up.

Mikoto waggled her phone in his direct line of vision with a satisfied smirk as if she had just called the president of the United States—as if an audience with him would even be possible. He squinted at the light haloing around the device.

"Man that must have done a number on you. You seem so out of it." Mikoto leaned in toward him, digging through the pack around her waist with her other hand. She pulled out a pair of aviators she had brought with her just in case she was out all night, and carefully slid them over his eyes. The instant shade actually came as a relief so he decided not to complain, but the ever-present frown on his face furrowed further.

"They don't call you the #3 for nothing." It was the closest he'd come to thanking her—with a clumsy compliment.

But Mikoto was covering her mouth to keep from laughing at him. What? The #1 with sunglasses on? It was beyond priceless, and she didn't hide the fact that she was taking a quick snapshot for blackmail later. Surprisingly though, he didn't react or register what was happening beyond the pounding that must be occurring in his skull. He reached up to massage his temples and adjust the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Mikoto quickly regained her composure.

"...Well, I wouldn't say I wasn't worried about frying your brain." No, she was terrified of the thought, but why hadn't she hesitated in doing it? Especially after… It wasn't like she didn't care whether he lived or died. So it could only mean one thing...that she had trusted him enough to be able to take the reins and help her steer—that she trusted him to help her avoid the calamity her ignorance of the electrode imposed.

"..." Accelerator was getting to his feet, but fell slightly into the shelving unit, using his crutch to catch himself. He looked like a drunk rock star trying to get up and do a show, which almost made her giggle. She looked to the side, reflecting back in self-displeasure at the thought.

When they reached the door, evidence showed many dents, muffled curses, and whatever else you would expect from a failed break-in attempt. Accelerator pressed the button on his electrode, lips the shape of scorn. A crazed glance was spared backwards at Mikoto before he placed a hand gently on the metal, watching as the frame burst from its hinges and flew violently outward. It took out a couple of men with it. One that was heading towards them dropped a chainsaw in horror and started running the opposite direction before the door slammed into him too, their surprised yells making the #1 wince and twist the sound vectors away from him. The wind whipped around the two of them in the wake of the door, lifting their clothes, swirling them, and tousling their hair. It was the epitome of danger: two level 5s stood together to combat the darkness.

In the sweet silence under the cover of sunglasses, Accelerator blew bangs out of his face and launched forward to begin picking them off, all his attention forward. He didn't have the energy or focus to tamper with the vectors in his body internally, so he simply ignored any protests, including those from Mikoto.

"HEY!" She ran after him. What the hell did he think he was doing?! A second ago he was barely getting to his feet, now he was launching himself through the air and taking down men in the middle of artillery fire… The reflected bullets were shooting out every which way, men emptying their rounds, yelling that there was no answer coming back from headquarters. Nope, they had taken care of that place first. It was chaos. With such a simple action, he had blown a hole right into the anthill, making them scatter in fear. Mikoto forced herself right in the middle of Accelerator's path, holding up a hand to stop him en route.

"Hah? Why are you stopping me, third-string? Want me to save you some?"

"You're bleeding, you idiot."

"Ahn?"

"How did you survive this long anyway?"

"..."

She reached up, grabbed his shirt, and lifted it to prove her point. The stitches were oozing. It looked like they had entered into a horror with too many special effects. Accelerator shrugged it off like it was no biggie and simply pocketed his hands. The bullets continued to bounce back on him, decommissioning a few of the others that managed to steel themselves enough to try and take on two ESPers. The bullets whizzed past Mikoto's head.

"At least let me help." She sidestepped around him so they were back-to-back—not that he needed the cover, but it just felt right. He looked at her like she had two heads, but she didn't see nor care to. Instead, Mikoto grabbed some empty shells off the ground and began launching them at various targets, hitting them smack dab in the forehead. It would leave a nasty bruise, but it was better than riddling them with holes.

Eventually, there was no one left. Maybe some were cowering inside, but with the brunt taken care of, Anti-Skill wouldn't have too much on their hands. Mikoto rubbed her hands together and spun around to face the white-haired, sunglasses-toting monster whose hand lingered for a moment on his choker. The choker definitely added to the rock star look, she noted, but also knew if she said that out loud, it would likely be her funeral.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Do I look okay to you?"

She frowned.

"Tch. Don't trip any loose landmines on your way out."

"I'm going to stick around here until Anti-Skill arrives." She paused, noting his brief nod and turn. "I don't know what you've got yourself into, but try not to die. I'm going to bring down the darkness too. In my own way. Maybe I'll see you on the other side of it, maybe I won't." The last part was said somberly, but Accelerator was already gone.


End file.
